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NEW YORK: 

NORMAN L. MUNRO, PUBLISHER. 
24 A 26 VANPEWATEa Stueet. 



V 


THE 


KING'S DAUGHTERS: 


The Heiress and The Outcast. 


r 


BY THE AUTHOR OF “THE ORPHAN SISTERS.” 

I 






>> 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1889, by Norman L. 
Munro, in the office of the Librarian of Congress, 
at Washington, D. C, 


NEW YORK: 

NORMAN L. MUNRO, PUBLISHER 

24 AND 26 Vandewater Street.. 

1889. 






THE 


KING’S DAUGHTERS: 

OB, 

The Heiress and The Outcast. 


BY THE ADTHOE OF “THE OEPHAN SISTERS.” 


PART 1. ■ 

CHAPTER I. 

HOW A TRAGEDY BEGAN. 

The sleety February day was drawing to its close. A 
waning twilight — blear and spectral as a “corpse-light ” — 
glimmered feebly over a world of ice and snow ; a dismal, 
whining blast swept over the frost-locked bosom of the 
Alleghany, and, dashing up the slope in fitful gusts of hail 
and sleet, drove through the bare trees of Catheron Park 
until the gray boughs clashed and rattled, and the snow 
beneath was scattered with broken twigs. 

In the dismal distance the lamps of Pittsburgh glowed 
fitfully through the sleety dusk, with here and there some 
tall chimney belching forth a banner of fire, as though in 
perpetual defiance of the brawling storm that seized and 
tore it into writhing ribbons of flame. 

East or west, north or south, look whei’e she would, the 
prospect was a gloomy and a cheerless one, and with a 
faint, low sigh and a perceptible shudder, Inez Catheron 
dropped the curtain over the dreary pictui*e, and, walking 
back to the fireplace, leaned her white forehead upon the 
carven mantel, and stood there long, looking sorrowfully 
down upon the blazing logs. 

In the creed of the world, she, of all women, should have 
been the last to wear a look of sorrow or feel a pang of 
regret, for all the blessings that that world had to give to 
woman had been showered upon her Avith a lavish hand — 
youth, beauty, riches in abundance, a husband she loved 
^nd who worshiped her in return, a home that was like a 


4 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


palace and a life that was like a poem — all these were hers, 
and to them was soon to be added the blessinj? of mater- 
nity — “ the joy of wives who truly love their lords.” 

Looking back upon her life to-night, she could scarcely 
find a flaw in all its three- and-twenty years, thougli it is 
true that she had not always known such abundant wealth 
as was hers at present, but of happiness there had been 
no stint from her earliest recollection. 

The petted only daughter of an English earl of slender 
means, who had made many a sacrifice, of which she never 
knew, in order to surround her life with all that youth 
desires and love can give — the Lady Inez Glandore had, at 
the age of twenty, made her debut under the chaperonage 
of her aunt, the Countess of Elsdale, created a decided 
furor by her delicate golden beauty and her natural charm 
of manner, and despite the well-known fact that she was 
absolutely dowerless, gave Mayfair ” a slight attack of the 
horrors” by refusing, first a royal duke who was con- 
sidered the parti of the season, then a marquis of fabulous 
wealth and irreproachable family, and finally shocked so- 
ciety to its very core by giving as the reason of her re- 
fusal, that she didn’t love either these distinguished suit- 
ors, and until she met a man that she did love, she pro- 
posed to continue in a state of single blessedness if it were 
for years to come., 

“The silly, romantic creature!” groaned the Countess 
of Elsdale. “Ten to one she will throw herself away upon 
some penniless guardsman, and end her days in shabby- 
genteel extinction! I have no patience with any such 
, Quixotic nonsense, and it will never bring her any ade- 
quate reward for the chances she has sacrificed. This 
tiresome ‘ all for love ’ business is another name for social 
suicide, and Inez is in a fair way to swell the list of vic- 
tims!” 

But in spite of the countess’ gloomy prediction, the Lady 
Inez did not fall in love with a penniless guardsman, and 
her resolution did not bring her to poverty and want, for 
in the midst of her “second season out,” a groat social 
lion, in the person of a handsome young American mill- 
ionaire, made his appearance in Mayfair, and at their first 
meeting, Inez Glandore knew that she had met her fate. 

Remarkably handsome and fabulously rich, the sole 
owner of the Black Diamond and the Great American 
Coal Miires, with interests in half a dozen railroads and 
factories, and not a relative to inherit his vast wealth, 
Kingdon Catheron was well calculated to prove an object 
of interest to the British mammas, and as bitterly as they 
had resented Lady Inez’s rejection of those eligible partis^ 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 5 

they now resented her evident preference for this latest 
catch. 

It was all to no purpose, however. The attachment 
was mutual, the engagement announced before the season 
was six weeks older*. A grand wedding soon followed, 
arid Avhen Kingdon Catheron returned to America, he took 
with him a loved and loving wife. 

It Avas just eleven montlis to-night that Inez Catheron 
first crossed the threshold of her neAv home, and even 
now, as she stood looking doAvn into the gloAving fire, she 
Avas living that day over again. 

What a surprise it Avas to her, to see those hundreds of 
miners, Avith their wives and children, all dressed in gala 
attire, and cheering as the carriage rolled along. With 
what Avonder she greeted the knoAvledge that all these 
Avere dependent upon her husband for the bread they ate, 
the roofs Avhich sheltered them, and the clothes they 
wore. 

Partly from his name, and partly from his vast posses- 
sions, he had gained the title of “Coal King,” Avhich his 
intimate acquaintances had sportively altered into “ King 
Cole,” and all the Avay, as the carriage drove through 
those possessions on its journLey to the park, it Avas greeted 
Avith shouts and cries of “Long live the king!” “Three 
cheers for young King Cole!” and then. Avhen one bright- 
faced little Avoman had joA'ously added : “ Ay, and three 
more for his beautiful queen. Lord love her SAveet blue 
eyes!” it seemed to Inez that the lusty cheers Avhich fol- 
lowed must surely have been heard for miles. 

From the hour she first came among them, the colliers 
and their Avives adored her, and with just cause; for to 
her they OAved many a comfort neA'^er knoAvn till then. 

It was she who cainsed their miserable huts to be im- 
proved; it Avas she who came with fruits and Avine Avhen 
their wives or little ones Avere ill; and her purse Avas never 
too empty, nor her time too Avell filled, to ansAver the call 
of the sick or needy at any time. 

So they grew to love her, those rude, untutored people, 
Avith a love like the steadfast devotion of a dog. The 
rudest of them doffed his hat, and the most profane 
checked his curses Avhen she approached; and her power 
over them was so complete that had not her approaching 
maternity compelled her to remain at home, a tragedy 
Avhich darkened many lives might never have been en- 
acted. 

For they Avere all past — those peaceful, happy times. 
No cheering crowd clustered about the Catheron carriage 
when her husband drove out these days, and no cries of 
“ Long liA*e the king!” filled the air now. Instead, curses 


6 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


greeted the bare mention of his name ; idle men and starv- 
ing women and children filled the huts in the mining dis- 
trict; noisy gatherings were held in the ale-houses, and 
drunken crowds teemed through the streets from dawn to 
dark, for the Black Diamond and the Great American 
mines had shut down, add the colliers were out on a 
strike. 

It was the old story of labor and capital — a mere ques- 
tioir of two cents more per ton for the coal mined and 
handled; but two cents more per ton Kingdon Catheron 
had flatly refused to give, and so it fell out that three 
weeks before this sleety Feburary night, upon which our 
story opens, there had been a great mass meeting of col- 
liers, and on the morrow a strike was declared by univei*- 
sal consent. 

But this was not the worst of it; for, after vainly trying 
to reason with Kingdon Catheron, after the committee ap- 
pointed by the strikers had been repulsed and almost 
kicked from the door, the men, smarting with indignation 
and half crazed by drink, had resorted to personal vio- 
lence. 

Only a few nights ago, when he was returning home 
alone and on foot, Kingdon Catheron had been set upon by 
half a dozen men, beaten into unconsciousness, and left ly- 
ing in the road until found there by his own coachman 
two hours afterward. 

In the darkness he had not been able to identify all his 
assailants; but one — Mark Talford, the husband of that 
same bright-faced little woman who had first greeted Inez 
with the title of queen- he had recognized beyond ques- 
tion, sworn out a warrant for his arrest upon a charge of 
“assault with intent to kill,” and this very day had 
driven over to the courthouse for the purpose of appear- 
ing against him at the trial. 

And this was why Inez Catheron wore that saddened 
look ; this was why — with all that could make life bright 
surrounding her — she stood there in the fast- deepening 
darkness, silent, sad-hearted, alone, and looked sorrowfully 
down into the glowing fire. 

“ If King would only temper justice Avitli mercy!” she 
sighed presently. “If he Avould only think Avhat Mark 
Talford’s conviction means for her, poor creature !— for her 
and her baby and its poor old grandmother — I think I 
could almost find heart to sing to-night I should be so 
happy. But he Avill not; I know that.” 

For many minutes she stood there, so absorbed in her 
own gloomy meditations that she did not hear the cai-riage 
roll up the drive nor the great front door swing back upon 
its hinges, and the first she knew of her husband’s returii 


THE KING'S DAUGHTEKS. 


7 


was Avhen he tiptoed his way across the library and, 
softly wrapping his arms around her, bent and touched 
his lips to her hair. 

“ All alone in the darkness, Inez?” he said, with a laugh. 
“ You look like a ghost standing herein your pretty white 
velvet gown. Ring for lights, and order dinner, dear; I 
am almost famished.” 

” And the trial. King?” ventured Inez, eagerly, as soon 
as she had complied with his request. “Tell me, has it 
ended? Have — have they found him guilty?” 

‘‘I don’t know,” he answered, carelessly, as he laid 
aside his coat and hat, and stood up in the mingled glow of 
firelight and gaslight— a handsome, dark-eyed, dark-haired 
man of thirty. ” The jury was still out when I left the 
courthouse, and I am going back after dinner to learn the 
verdict. It will be ‘guilty,’ of course, and I shall use 
every endeavor to secure him the full punishment for his 
offense.” 

‘‘Oh, don’t. King— for my sake, dont!” she pleaded tear- 
fully. ‘‘The man is sorry for what he has done— he has 
sent you word of his penitence, and begged you to remem- 
ber his poor old mother and his wife and child. Darling, 
let me counsel and advise you in this. Be lenient with 
Mark Talford, use your influence to save and not to crush 
him. King; and by one act of mercy to this poor man, 
win the respect of his fellows. Be reasonable, be char- 
itable, King. We have so much, dear, that we will not 
miss the extra two cents per ton. while to them it means 
some little luxury to brighten their dreary and unlovely 
homes. ” 

“Yes, and to buy them more whisky, the scoundrels,” 
he answered, angrily. “ It is not the money but the prin- 
cipal of the thing, I study, Inez, and I have told you over 
and over again that I will not yield one jot, and I will not 
allow a pack of savage brutes to command me. When I 
have conquered them I will pay the extra amount freely 
—although they shall not know of my intention until 
after the strike is ended. But until they come to their 
senses and proclaim their willingness to resume work at 
the old rates, I will not grant them one copper more, nor 
yet consent to talk with their committeemen. They need 
an example to teach them how little of that ‘ putty ele- 
ment ’ there is in my character. And as for this rascal, 
Talford ” 

He did not finish the sentence. The sound of something 
tapping at the window pane had drawn his wife’s at- 
tention to the casement vvhile he was speaking. She had 
hurried to it and divided the velvet curtains, and now 


8 THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 

her cry of sorrowful amazement broke in and checked his 
words. 

Outside upon the snowy balcony, a child pressed to her 
bosom, a shawl thrown over her head, and some straggling 
tresses of her long light hair lashing her face as the sleety 
wind beat and buffeted her shivering, thinly clad body— 
there, with her wild, white face pressed against the glass, 
and the light from within bringing out her small, slight fig- 
ure in bold relief against the darkness without, hunger and 
despair stamped upon every feature, suffering and deso- 
lation looking out of her great gray eyes— there in the 
night and the storm, crouched the figure of a woman— 
Mark Talford’s wifel 

CHAPTER II. 

HOW THE NIGHT FELL. 

Without an instant’s hesitation, Inez threw up the 
sash and drew the poor benumbed creature into the 
warmth and radiance of the scented, luxurious room, and, 
with a word of tender sympathy, led her toward a deep, 
soft seat beside the fire. 

But with a cry of desolation and despair, Maggie Talford 
broke away from the gentle hand that rested like a white- 
wood blossom upon her arm, and staggering forward to 
him, dropped on her knees at his very feet, and putting 
her little one down beside her, clasped its baby hands, and 
so lifted up her white, despairing face to Kingdon Cather- 
on’s own. 

“Pray to him, baby, pray for the poor father’s sake!” 
she cried out in a broken, desolate voice. “Oh, sir! oh, 
Mr. Catheron, save my man— save granny. Save us! for 
God’s sake do it, sir. It’s us you’re sacrificing, it’s us as’ll 
suffer the most, and we never harmed ye, sir. Oh, mercy, 
Mr. Catheron — mercy in the Almighty’s name. He didn’t 
know what he was a-doing— my poor man didn’t. It was 
the liquor as got into his head — the liquor and the thought 
o’ us a-starvin’ like rats in a hole, and then — then othei’S 
drove him on till he never knowed what he was a-doin’, 
nor — nor — nuthin’. He’d a-died sooner than lay a hand 
on you after the ways you and your dear lady treated us 
when poor granny was sick. He didn’t want to join the 
strikers in the first place, but they made him do it, and 

now It was the liquor as done the work, not him, sir. 

Oh, don’t ‘send him up,’ Mr. Catheron, for the dear 
Lord’s sake, don’t!’' 

She had poured forth this wild, disjointed appeal before 
Catheron could check her, aud now as her wretched voice 
gave out, aud short hysterical sobs shook her bosom and 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


9 


fluttered on her blue lips, vshe lifted those streaming eyes 
again and held forth her hands in a voiceless prayer for 
pity. 

Not naturally a hard man, but one whose besetting sin 
was a stubborn fealty to his word when once pledged, and 
an iron resolution to carry it out, cost what it would. King- 
don Catheron averted his ej’es from the face of the dis- 
tracted creature who knelt before him, and in his secret 
heart wished he had not been so hasty or that she instead 
of one of his fellow-strikers had been chosen to bear to him 
that first message of Mark Talford’s penitence. 

“ I pity you from the bottom of my heart, Maggie,” he 
said, “but the matter has passed out of my hands now, 
and it is too late for me to do what you wish, even if 
I would.” 

‘‘Oh. don’t say that, for God’s sake don’t say that!’’ 
broke forth the distracted Avoman with a scream of heart- 
broken despair. “It’s only your word as has shut the 
bai’s upon him. and you’re powerful enough to swing ’em 
back if you only Avish. I’ve been a-standin’ over there at 
the courthouse ever since the door opened this mornin’. 
I’d a little hope then that I’d see you afore you AA^ent in to 
swear agin him, and maj’be you’d not be haiKl on my man 
for the sake o’ baby and me; but uoav it ” 

A cry of abject misery Avrenched aAA^ay her voice, she 
craAvled forward on her knees, beating her bosom and her 
temples Avith her poor, half- frozen hands, and so cried out 
anew Avith the horror and despair of her toi’tured heart: 

“Now they say as it’s goin’ ag’in him, Mr. Catheron. 
They say at the courthouse that the verdict is sure to be 
‘Guilty;’ they say as he’ll get five years in the Western 
Penitentiary'. My God! five years, sir; and what’s to be- 
come of tisf" 

“ Do you think I aauII see you suffer? Your comfort will 
be looked after — far better than he looked after it, the ras- 
cal! But I tell ymu I am determined to make an example 
of this coAA'ardly dog, Avho attacks a man in the dark; and 
AA'hile he learns a lesson in obedience, y'ou shall not suffer, 
be assured. You and ymur mother- in-laAV may move into 
the neAv cottage on the hill to-morroAv, and I ” 

“ I don’t Avant the new cottage — I want my man!” she 
broke in, distractedly. “It’s not the house as makes 
home; it’s him and baby. The old house is as good as a 
palace, if only Mark is there; and if he isn’t — there’s 
nuthin’ left me but to take down his gun and send a bullet 
through the heart you’ve broken!” 

A faint, Avomanly gasp of terror from his Avife’s lips 
dreAv Catheron’s attention to her. He saAv that she Avas 


10 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


pale, weak, and overcome ; and springing to the bell- rope, 
he rang for assistance. 

“Oh, mercy, sir, mercy!” screamed Maggie Talford, 
fearing from this that he meant to have her put out. 
“Plead for us, Mrs. Catheron — you as was always the 
friend of the poor. Plead for my man and me. and may- 
be ” 

“Be still, you idiot!” broke in Catheron, sharply, all his 
thoughts centered upon his wife, and the knowledge that 
she suffered through her outburst hardening him against 
the miserable creature who knelt there with her trembling 
hands outstretched. “ Can’t you see that you are distress- 
ing Mrs. Catheron? Have you no sense, no reason, to 
shock her like this? Here, Martha as a trim house- 
maid appeai-ed in answer to his summons—” assist your 
mistress to her room without delay, and remain with her 
until I come up.” 

“Oh, King, I prefer ” 

“Hush! I insist that you retire at once, Inez. You 
shall not listen to any more of this -woman’s raving mad- 
ness. Go! it is my wish.” 

And, as his wishes were her law, sorrowfully bowing 
her beautiful golden head, and leaning heavily upon Mar- 
tha’s arm, Inez Catheron sighed helplessly and walked 
out of the room. 

For a minute her husband stood at the doorway and 
anxiously watched her as she mounted the stairs; then, 
as she passed from sight on the landing above, he turned, 
and with an impatient gesture, again confronted the 
striker’s wife and child, and whatever feeling of com- 
passion their misery had evoked before, it was lost now in 
the knowledge that to them he owed even that one small 
pang which had smitten his idolized wife. 

“I have done the best that I can do,” he said, bitterly. 
“I have offered to look after you and your child— I have 
even offered to assist his mother — and you have chosen to 
throw the offer back in my face. I am sorry for you, but 
I can do no more. The law has taken hold of your I’ascal- 
ly husband, and he richly deserves all that he gets. 

“As for me, I tell you now— once and for all, Maggie — I 
will not lift one finger to lighten his sentence, or take one 
step toward saving him, let it cost what it will!” 

With such a scream as only a heart-broken woman 
could give, Maggie Talford crawled to him and wmund 
her arms about his knees. 

“ Don’t say it— for God’s sake, don’t say it!” she panted, 
shivering and lifting her dilated eyes, with something in 
her look and bearing that was horribly suggestive of a 
wounded animal when it hears the baying of the hounds. 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


11 


“You don’t mean it, Mr. Catheron, you can’t mean it; 
you’re only speaking in anger because o’ your dear lady’s 
sufferin’s. 

“Oh, but they’re nuthin’ to mine — nuthin’ to mine! 
She ain’t felt her little one a-clingin’ round her neck yet, 
she ain’t heered it cryin’ for food and callin’ for the father 
as has been took away from it ! 

“Oh, Mr. Catheron, for the good Lord’s sake, don’t do 
this dreadful thing ! 

“ Forgive my man — forgive him as you hope that Heav- 
en’ll forgive you in your time o’ need, and for the sake o’ 
the little one as is a-comin’ into your own life, spare the 
father o’ mine !” 

“ I have done the best I can, ” he answered huskily. “ It 
is useless to plead — I will do no more!” 

“No, no, no! Don’t say that — take it back, sir, for 
God’s sake take it back!” she screamed, winding her cling- 
ing arms yet tighter about his knees, and looking up with 
the Avildness of incipient madness in her glaring eyes. 
“You won’t have the heart to kill us like this! We’ll die 

if you take Mark from us, and— and My Heaven, I’m 

afraid I’m dying now, Mr. Catheron— dyin’ and a-burnin’ 
up like the souls of them as is lost. It’s all flame in my 
head and heart. I — I can hardly see your face, but I can 
hear ye. Oh, God ! but I can hear ye. Take back your 
Avords. I’ll cling to you and hold you till you do, sir! 
Save my man from the prison, give him back to granny 
and baby and me. Please, Mr. Catheron — please, please, 
please!” 

For all answer, he gently but firmly disengaged himself 
from the clasp of her arms, and rang for the footman to 
show her to the door; and then, Avith a gesture of repudia- 
tion, Avalked out and left her alone. 

And she? With one shrill scream that echoed through 
the house like the shriek of a banshee calling forth a 
soul, she flung herself face doAvuAA'ard upon the floor, and 
after that lay quite still and uttered neither prayer nor 
crv to the very end. 

The footman came in and gently tapped her shoulder. 
She rose mechanically, like one dazed and stupefied by 
some heavy shock, and catching up the shawl Avhich had 
fallen from her shoulders, tottered to the fireplace, Avhere 
her child had craAvled, and sat crooning before the blazing 
logs. 

“ Dada,” it croAved, as it lifted its gloAving face to hers, 
“dada, mammy, dada.” 

She caught it up almost fiercely and hushed its voice in 
the folds of her shawl; then, Avith her long, light hair 
tumbled upon her shoulders, and the child held close to 


12 


THE KIN&S DAUGHTERS. 


her bosom, she tottered out of the room, out of the house, 
and five minutes later Inez CatheTon, standing in the win- 
dow of her own scented, satin-hung boudoir, and looking 
sadly out upon the sleety, February darkness, saw her 
pass under the blinking lamps that crowned the gateway, 
and then melt out in the darkness as though the night and 
the storm had taken her and swept her onward at their 
will. 


CHAPTER III. 

HOW THE DAY BROKE. 

It was half-past seven by the buhl clock on his wife’s 
dressing-table when Kingdon Catheron walked into Inez’s 
boudoir, and found her standing in the window with out- 
sti'etched hands dividing the silken curtains, her white 
velvet gown falling away from her in long, straight folds, 
like the carven drapery of a marble statue, and her pale, 
sad face yet turned toward the lamp- crowned gateway, 
where she had seen that tottering figure last. 

Dinner was over, and for the first time in the one sweet 
year of their wedded life Kingdon Catheron had dined alone. 
Martha had brought him word that her mistress “ was not 
feeling well and would not come down, if he would kindly 
excuse her this evening,” and he, remembering the shock 
she had experienced, as well as the delicate state of her 
health, bad ordered her dinner sent up, with the word that 
she was to study only her own pleasure, and not to waste 
one thought upon his. 

From the character of the message she had sent him, he 
had thought to find her already abed, or at the least reclin- 
ing among the soft cushions of her favorite divan; but in- 
stead he found her dinner spread out upon the table still un- 
touched, found her still standing in the window, still robed 
in hor-sumptuous velvet “dinner-dress,” while on a chair 
beside her lay, unheeded, her slippers and the silk negligee 
which Martha had placed ready for her hand. 

She heard his footstep as he entered, but before he could 
speak, turned slowly, and lifted to bis a face so white and 
drawn with terror and sadness, that he stopped short with 
a sudden gasp, and stared at her in painful surprise. 

But in the next moment he was by her side, and his 
tender arms enfolded her. 

“ Inez!” he exclaimed in a startled voice, “how strange 
you look! how changed you are. Dear wife, what is it?” 

“ I do not know,” she answered, faintly. “Something 
seems to weigh so heavily upon my heart that it sickens 
and oppresses me. It came upon me first when I saw that 


THE KING'S daughters. 


13 


poor creature pass through the gateway, and it seemed to 
rivet me there. ’ ’ 

“Good Heaven! and have you been standing in the 
window ever since she went?” 

“Yes; is it long?”— in a half-bewildered surprise. 

“ An hour and a half,” he answered. “ She left at six, 
and it is now half-past seven. I have ordered the carriage 
to take me over to the courthouse, and I thought I would 
step in and see if you were better before I went, and 
now ” 

Her fluttering white hands closed nervously upon his 
arm as she spoke, and her eyes lifted to his, with a flash 
of sudden terror. 

“Don’t go. King,” she interrupted in a palpitating 
voice. “Don’t go over to hear the verdict to-night. 
Something seems to tell me that you had better not, my 
darling.” 

“ But, sweetheart, I promised to stop on the way and 
take Judge Barkley over in the carriage, and really there 
is not the slightest danger. Those rascals have learned 
by this time that I am not to be assaulted with impunity, 
and it wouldn’t do to let them thinlc that 1 am afraid of 
them.” 

“ But please don’t go to the courthouse to-night. King,” 
she persisted; “the strikers will be gathered there in 
force to hear the verdict of the jury, and if it should be 
‘guilty ’ ” 

“It can hardly be anything else, Inez.” 

“Then don’t go, for my .sake, King! Call me weak, 
fanciful, what you will, but in the moment I saw Maggie 
Talford pass under that gate, as plainly as I now hear my 
own voice, I hoard that of my poor dead mother call out 
to me, and say : ‘ Keep him home, Inez, keep him home ! 
There’s danger.’ ” 

For a moment Kingdon Catheron wavered. He knew 
what would be the universal opinion— he knew that the 
men would say he had not dared to venture forth for fear 
of punishment at the hands of Mark Talford’s upholders, 
and with not so much as one drop of a coward’s blood in 
his veins, he naturally shrunk from being judged a pol- 
troon ! 

But to re.sist the pleading of this loved and lovely wom- 
an, whose arms infolded him, whose life was wrapped up 
in his, and to resist at such a time as this, when she had 
every claim upon his protection, and every right to ask 
and to receive the foremost place in his consideration. 
Ah ! he had scarcely loved her could he say her nay. 

“There, quiet your fears, dearest,” he said with a sigh. 


14 


1['HE KING'S DAVaHTERS. 


“It costs me a struggle to say it, but— you shall— have 
your way.” 

“And you won’t go to the courthouse to-night?” joy- 



“ No, I won’t even cross the river at all,” he answered. 
“But Imiist let Judge Barkley know of my decision, and 
as I have certain matters I wish to talk over with him, 
I’ll pay him a visit and be back here with you before nine 
o’clock. I’ll tell Donald to take the carriage back to the 
stable and saddle Rocket instead. It’s only a bit of a ride 
from here to Judge Barkley’s, and you won’t mind me 
taking that trip, I am sure.” 

“No,” she answered, a trifle hesitatingly, then, as she 
remembered what it cost him to gratify her first desire, and 
for the sake of humoidng her. be branded with cowardice: 

“ No, I shall not mind that. King,” she added more bright- 
ly. “You are very good, dear, to deal so kindly with my 
poor, foolish fancies, so I will ring myself and order Rock- 
et to be saddled at once.” 

Then opening her arms and watching him with loving 
glances as he stalked away to prepare himself for the ride, 
she turned to the bell, rung for a servant, and gave the 
promised order. 

Twenty minutes later, when Martha came up to an- 
nounce that the horse was at the door, she found her mas- 
ter booted and spurred, standing in the center of the pret- 
ty silken boudoir, with his arms folded about his wife, and 
looking, as she afterward declared in confidence to the 
cook, “for all the world as though they were only lovers, 
and wasn’t sensible married folks at all!” 

“ Good bye for a little time, my darling!” he smiled, as 
he bent and kissed her. “ I sha’n’t be gone more than an 
hour, so you may expect me back by nine at the latest.” 

“ Good- bye. King — my King!” she sweetly answered as 
she smiled up into his face; then, obeying a sudden im- 
pulse, she drew down his head, kissed his eyes, and lips, 
and hair, and then, rosy with blushes, dropped her arms 
and let him go. 

He caught up his sealskin hat and crushed it down upon 
his dark, wavy hair as he darted out of the room and went 
down the stairs, humming snatches of a popular song, and 
for half a minute his wife stood by the open doorway, lis- 
tening to his clanking spurs, and tlie murmured sweetness 
of his melodious voice; then, with a faint, low sigh, she 
walked back to the window and stood there, watching 
him ride away through the stormy winter night. 

“My darling, my handsome, gallant King!” she mur- 
mured, with a rush of tears and a feeling of pride in her 
wifehood to him. “ Oh, I can understand the sufferings 


THE KING^S DAUGHTERS. 


15 


of that poor creature who was here to-night, for if any- 
one took you from me, my darling, I should not wish to 
live.” 

Her soft, sweet voice quivered tenderly as she uttered 
that, and pressing her face to the ice-cold pane, she vainly 
tried to catch one more glimpse of him as he rode away. 

But only the writhing tree-tops and the driving sleet 
were visible in the faint light of the gate-lamp, and with 
a sigh of regret she drew the curtains and turned away from 
the window. 

‘‘What a wretched night,” she murmured with a shud- 
der as the wind howled down the chimney and the sleet 
clattered against the casement. ‘‘ How shall I pass the 
time until King returns? Somehow, I wish he had not 
gone at all. He might better have sent one of the servants 
to bear his message to the judge. I would have suggested 
that, only that I had already forced him to humor me at 
the cost of his pride, and I hated to ask too much. Ugh! 
how the storm drives. I wonder”— hopefully this — ‘‘if I 
have outgrown all my childish fire-fancies, or if the spell 
would work to-night? I used to turn out the lights and 
sit building castles in the fire whenever the winter nights 
were stormy at home, and it always soothed and amused 
me when time hung heavily and I had nothing to do but 
wait. Maybe the old charm lingers still, and it will help 
me wear away the tedious hour which must pass before 
King returns. At all events it can do no harm to try.” 

Speaking, she walked to the crystal chandelier and shut 
off its gleaming jets one by one, until only the fire, glow- 
ing like a gigantic ruby set in the silver bars of the grate 
shed its red luster through the scented darkness, and 
changed the silver ferns on the frescoed ceiling to sprays 
of copper-gold. 

She wheeled a great, sleepy, hollow chair to the fire- 
place, and sinking gently into its violet velvet depths, 
folded her slim, white hands, and resting her cheek against 
the cushoned back of the chaii*, turned her face to the 
redly-gleaming coals. 

Yes; the old charm lingered still, she told herself, as 
one by one familiar faces peeped from the coals and famil- 
iar scenes came trooping back; and with a smile of sweet 
content, she lay and let the fancies link themselves one in 
one, and bring the past before her. 

The red light drenched her face and hair, and steeped 
her white velvet robe in a glow of splendor; the warmth 
of the fire and the softness of the velvet cushions lulled 
her insensibly ; the pictures in the coals began to float and 
mingle in a sweet confusion; the white lids fluttered down 
and veiled her tired eyes ; and when, not quite a half hour 


16 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


after Kingdon Catheron had gone, Martha stole into the 
boudoir to speak with her mistress, she found her l>nng 
fast asleep in the deep, soft chair, “with the crimson light 
aflame on her peaceful face. 

“ Poor dear, she’s clean tired out, muttered the girl. 
“ I’ll go back and spend the evening in the kitchen with 
cook, and when missus wants me she can ring.” 

Then tiptoeing her way out of the room, she closed 
the door, and left that silent sleeper alone with her peace- 
ful dreams. 

And so the time sped, unheeded and unknown, over 
Inez Catheron’s head. The fire burned gray, and the 
shadows deepened about her; the clock struck nine, then 
ten, then eleven, but no one came to disturb her. So the 
last peaceful hours of her young life glided by, and van- 
ished, even as the firelight’s gleam had vanished from her 
beautiful sleeping face, 

* * ♦ * ♦ 

Twelve pealed forth from the bnhl toy on the mantel- 
piece, and, with a little cry of surprise, Inez Catheron 
started from her slumbers and looked about her. 

The fire had burned down to a heap of gray ashes, the 
room was cold and pitchy dark ; but it was neither the 
darkness, nor the coldness, nor yet the chiming of the 
clock which had recalled her from her slumbers. 

It was a scream— real or fancied, she knew not which — 
but a woman’s scream, far off in the distance, followed by 
a burst of goblin laughter; and springing to her feet, 
nervous and trembling with terror, Inez touched a match 
to the gas, and then glanced wildly at the clock. 

“Midnight!” she gasped, appalled; “midnight, and I 
have been sleeping here since eight o’clock. Just Heaven ! 
has not King returned yet? And if he has, why have 
I been suffered to sleep so long?” 

She rushed to the bell-rope as she spoke, and frantically 
rang for a servant. 

In half a minute’s time, Martha, startled out of her wits 
by this violent summons, came tearing up the stairs and 
burst into the room. 

“Oh, my dear missus,” she began, “whatever is the 
mat ” 

“Your master — Mr. Catheron,” broke in Inez, excitedly. 
“Speak quickly, has he returned?” 

“ No, ma’am 1” answei’ed Martha, shaking her head. “ I 
heered him tell Donald at dinner time that he wouldn’t be 
home until werry late, ma’am, as he was goin’ over to 
Pittsburg.” 

“ But he didn’t go— he didn’t go!” exclaimed Inez, with 
a wail of agonized despair, “He changed his mind and 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


17 


promised me to be at home at nine o’clock— at nine, do 
you hear?— and now it is midnight! 

“Oh, my heart — my heart! Something has happened, 
I know it has. The strikers hav^e waylaid him, and he 

“ Call up the servants — send them out to search for him. 
He only went to visit Judge Barkley— he promised me 
faithfully that he would not cross the river, and now 

“Oh, King, my husband, my darling, where are you at 
this dreadful hour?” 

Shocked and suprised by this unexpected intelligence, as 
well as by the distracted manner of her mistress, Martha 
rushed out of the room and ran down the stairs, calling to 
her fellow-servants and bringing them flocking up the 
stairs like a drove of frightened sheep. 

“The master!” she gasped. “He promised to be back 
at nme, and the strikers are out, and ’ ’ 

“ The Lord have mercy on us! What’s that?” 

It was a woman’s shriek, then a burst of maniacal 
laughter, ringing from the park and blending with the 
hoarse voices of men ; and almost paralyzed with terror, 
the servants huddled together and looked unutterable 
things. 

A footstep scurried up the drive and up the steps, and 
another burst of that awful laughter rang forth ; and al- 
most at the same instant someone seized the door-bell and 
sent peal after peal ringing down the silent hall. 

The female servants gasped and clung to each other in 
pale affright ; the men with one accord looked at each other, 
and then rushed to obey that violent summons. The door 
was seized and wrenched open, and the sight wdiich stood 
revealed by that simple act was i-emembered for years af- 
terward by those who heheld it. 

Midway in the drive, a crowd of pale-faced men were 
moving slowly toward the house, bearing between them a 
rude litter upon which lay a dark and shapeless something 
hidden under a pile of coats, and behind it, in the grasp 
of two men, whose toi’ches spluttered in the wund, and shed 
a ghastly light upon the whole grewsome procession, fol- 
lowed a laughing, shrieking, demented woman with an 
old rusty musket in her hands. 

It was Maggie Talford, screaming and gestulating as only 
a maniac could. 

“The master! the master! for God’s sake don’t saj’- it’s 
him!” shrieked Martha, rushing down the steps as the men 
set down their burden ; but even as she spoke a gentle 
hand lifted the bundle of coats and let the torchlight fall 
upon the dreadful thing beneath. 

A scream of horrified recognition -went up from all the 
servants; for there, with his glaring eyes upturned, and 


18 


THE KINHS DAUGHTERS. 


the blood oozinfj from a bullet hole in his temple, there, 
stark dead, and frozen stiff, lay the body of Kingdon 
Catheron. 

“Look at him— look at him!” shrieked Maggie Talford, 
with a burst of goblin laughter. “He’s gone to join my 
man, and I sent him there. I sent him wi’ a curse on his 
hard heart. Blood — all blood! and so white and clean 
afore. He’d done his best, he said. Ha! ha! ha! an’ I 
done my best to pay him for ruinin’ my man !” 

A. cry of horrified amazement rolled up from the lips of 
the servants at the maniac’s terrible self-denunciation, but 
over it there arose another and a wilder cry, as a white 
figure dashed through the doorway and sped down the 
snowy steps. 

In that moment of horror the servants had forgotten 
their mistress until it was too late to avert the dreadful 
end. 

“King! King! my love, my husband!” she shrieked as 
she threw herself across his bodj^ and wound her arms 
about him. “ Speak to me, darling ! Are you badly hurt? 

It is I— Inez— your wife and your Blood! look at it. 

Blood. He is dead ! My God, he is dead !” 

And then she sunk into a merciful oblivion. 

Strong arms lifted her and bore her to her bed-chamber, 
doctor and nurse were sent for in post haste, and when 
the first rays of the morning began to peep through the 
eastern sky, Kingdon Catheron’s twin daughtei’s laj’^ sleep- 
ing beside their stricken mother in the wide West chamber 
of Catheron Park. 


CHAPTER IV. 

“a monster, sire, that cracks dead men's bones.” 

The night had shut in again, wilder and stormier than 
the day before. 

In the bare and cheerless cabin, where no child’s prattle 
sounded to-night, and where a few sticks blazing in the 
black fireplace shed a faint, flickering light over her bowed 
head, Mark Talford’s mother crouched upon the hearth- 
stone with her dreary face turned downward to the feeble 
flames, her brown, claw-like hands moving ceaselessly one 
through the other, and her gaunt figure swaying to and 
fro, as though rocked by a tempest more violent than the 
one that shrieked without. 

A large, bony woman, with a hard, masculine face, dark 
and wrinkled as a walnut-shell; a thin, straight mouth, 
crowded with irregular teeth; a narrow, retreating fore- 
head, overhung by a frowsy mass of ii’on-gray hair; a 
large, flat nose ; and a pair of small, preternaturally brill- 


THE KINHS DAUGHTERS. 


19 

iant eyes, deep-set under shaggy brows; square of chin and 
massive of jaw and cheekbone— that was Hulda Talford’s 
face as the wavering firelight revealed it. 

All day she had been crouching as she crouched now, 
mumbling curses in a dull, spluttering voice — curses on 
the hand that had stricken hei-, on the Power that permit- 
ted it, and on the heads of those who deserted her in her 
time of trouble and despair. 

For popular sentiment had undergone a serious shock 
since the tragedy, and, as is always the case with the ig- 
norant, the very men who had upheld Mark Talford yes- 
terday, now bitterly cursed him as the primary cause of 
the distress they foresaw tlu’eatening themselves through 
a winter of enforced idleness, and put not him alone, but 
all connected with him, under a ban of sullen displeasure. 

So, in their wrath and despair, they turned their backs 
upon Mark Talford’s mother after they brought her the 
news of the tragedy, and from that hour to this no one 
had crossed the threshold of her desolate home, and no 
voice but her own had sounded between its barren walls 
since yesterday. 

Everything was gone from her, even the child, whom 
the authorities had consented to take in cliarge, because 
it cried so piteously for its mother, and had borne away 
with them to the prison where that mother lay, and where 
it was at least sure of food and warmth until such time 
as it should be legally consigned to the charge of the 
county. The verdict of the jury which sat in judgment 
upon her son’s offense had doomed him to three years’ 
hard labor in the Western Penitentiary at Allegheny City, 
and long before this hour to-morrow he would have begun 
the service of his time; and she. his mother, homeless and 
penniless in her old age, would be cast adrift upon the 
world without a friend or a hope, 

“ A curse on Kingdon Catheron! a curse on his children 
and all that belongs to ’em!” she cried out in a dull, ma- 
lignant voice of wrathful despair, as she rocked to and fro 
in the firelight, and gripped her longhands like the talons 
of some i-avenous bird fastening upon its prey. “ The curse 
of the widowed and the orphaned follow ’em to their graves, 
as it’ll follow the father as never lived to see their faces! 
A curse on everything they touch, and every dollar as 
comes to them ! If I could live to see ’em as desolate as 
he has made me and mine, if I could live to see ’em ‘ a 
charge on the county,’ like the child o’ my boy, I’d sell 
my soul to the devil and go down to him laughing wi’ hap- 
piness!” 

The wind roared down the wide- throated chimney-place 
as she ceased speaking, and made the dying fire leap and 


20 


THE KlN&S DAUGHTERS. 


blaze fitfully before it expired. She rose to her feet as 
the last fianie ceased to quiver among the red embers, and 
striking her hands together with a ciw of angry despair, 
trudged up and down the bleak, fast darkening room. 

“No more wood! no more bread! no more anything !" 
she said, in a low, half-w^ailing, half-growling voice. 
“ Even the fire has gone from me now as though he’d come 
back to quench it in his dead hands, and take that from 
me as he’s took all else!” 

For several minutes she paced up and dovrn the room 
muttering curses upon the twin-heiresses at the Park, her 
bitter, resentful nature forgetting all the kindness of 
Inez Catheron in the memory of the suffering which had 
come to her through the stubbornness of Inez Catheron’s 
husband; then, as some darker thought took shape in her 
mind, she stopped abruptly with a fierce, snarling cry, 
and stood dead still looking straight before her with a 
bitterly jubilant expression stamped upon her tawny face. 

“ Wait a bit,” she said, presently, in an eager voice, as 
she went over to the fireplace and rested her forehead 
upon the wooden mantel. “Yes, it could be done — ay, 
and a just punishment it would be, too, for what he done 
agin me and mine. But wait a bit, till I think it over. 
I don’t see the way clear as yet, and there’s danger in it 
if I fail.” 

Her voice sunk and died out, and for many minutes she 
stood there, resting her forehead against the mantel, and 
staring silently at the red sparks on the hearth; then, with 
a sudden exclamation, she started up, and groping her way 
to a closet, she fumbled about its shelves in quest of some- 
thing. 

“ Where’s that stuff as the doctor gimme when he set 
my broken leg?” she muttered. “ It made my head seem 
full o’ whirlin’ fire when I smelled it, but arter that I 
didn’t know nuthin’ nor felt nuthin’ till I woke up in the 
morning and found the job done. The bottle was here 

t’other day, for I seed it myself ; and now Here it is — 

here it is, at last !” 

Her large, bony hands gripped over a bottle which she 
had touched while speaking, and hurrying back to the fire- 
place with her prize, she tore off a strip of her gingham 
apron, threw it upon the embers, and blew them with her 
breath until the rag ignited. 

Bending forward, she held up the bottle and scrutinized 
it by the light of that feeble blaze. 

“ Yes, this is it,” she said, in a satisfied whisper. “ It’s 
half full yet, aiid there’s more than enough. Send my son 
to the penitentiary, will you, Kingdon' Catheron? Break 
his woman’s heart, and throw his child upon the county, 


THE KtNHS DAUGHTERS. 


21 


will you? Well, turn about is fair play, the whole world 
over, and I’ll pay back what I’ve had in the same coin as 
I got it. It’s a queer road that leads nowheres, curse ye ! 
and the one you chose has led to this.” 

A low guttural laugh jarred the stillness of the room as 
she uttered these words; then thrusting the bottle into her 
pocket, she groped her way back to the closet, fumbled 
about until she found an old table-knife, pocketed this 
also, and taking down a rusty cloak and a worsted hood 
from the peg where they hung beside the closet door, 
began with eager haste to don them. 

“I warn’t born o’ Romany blood to forgive an injury, 
or foi’get how to repay it.” she chuckled, as she tied on 
her worsted hood, and nodded confidentially to the dingy 
fire. “It’s eight- and-t wen ty years since I left my own 
land, and said good-bye to my tribe, but I aren’t forgot 
how a gypsy takes revenge for a wrong, and pays it back, 
heart for heax’t and bloAV for blow !” 

She Avound her cloak about her shoulders, wrenched 
open the door of her cabin, closed it behind her, and step- 
ping forth into the driving sleet and shrieking wind, hur- 
ried aAvay through the darkness in the direction of Cathe- 
ron Park. 

The belfry clock struck nine before she had covered 
more than half the distance to the Park, for in such a 
storm, and upon such a road, it was impossible to pro- 
gress rapidly, and she Avas already blue, and half be- 
numbed by the bitter, biting air, but still she kept her 
purpose uppermost in her mind, still she blundered on, 
until with a cry of satisfaction she saAV the gate-lamps of 
Catheron Pai*k shining out through the Avindy darkness 
before her. 

She staggered up to them and crept into the grounds, 
resting under the shadow of the Avail and blowing her 
breath upon her stiffened fingers until she had infused 
some Avarmth into them, then creeping into the shadow of 
the rocking trees that rattled their storm-driven boughs 
above the drive, moved swiftly and noiselessly in the di- 
rection of the house. 

There it stood, a dark, forbidding pile under a dark, for- 
bidding sky, no lights agleam in the many Avindows that 
looked out like scowling, sullen eyes from its stormy, storm- 
swept face, but some faint gleam streaming over the SAvay- 
ing trees that stood behind it, mutely telling that life as 
Avell as death yet reigned under the cover of its gloomy 
roof. 

“They’re all in the rear, and I’m sorry for it !’ ’ muttered 
Hulda Talford as she crept along. “ The balconies is in 
the rear, too, and that’s my only Avay o’ gittin’ in. I 


22 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


thought niayhaps she’d be lyin’ in the room above the 
front door, where I’ve seen her sittin’ in the bay winder so 
many times when I passed the gates. But mebby that’s 
only one of them sittin’ -rooms as high folks calls ‘ bood- 
wars ’ in the old country, and her bedroom’s in the back 
of the house where the lights is. ’ ’ 

She was correct in that surmise, for, having passed 
around to the rear of the mansion, she saw that the lights 
were not confined to the kitchens — where, even then, the 
servants were holding solemn conclave among themselves 
—but that a faint, subdued glow, like the dim burning of 
a night-lamp in a sick-chamber, was visible in the windows 
of a room communicating with the upper balcony. 

There were two of these balconies— the lower giving ac- 
cess to the library windows where last night Maggie Tal- 
ford had entered to make that final appeal for Kingdon Cath- 
eron’s mercy, the upper one encircling the entire build- 
ing, and being accessible from the windows of every room 
on the second story, and over both of these balconies — 
even running up, until in certain places it reached the 
roof and wrapped its tendrils about the gilded rail of tur- 
ret and tower — wound and re-wound an immense wistaria 
vine loaded with icicles. 

A glance assured the woman that, in its present danger- 
ous condition, it was useless to think of employing that as 
a means of reaching the upper balcony, and softly tiptoe- 
ing up the steps to the lower one, she crept to the'window 
of the library. 

Drawing the old knife from her pocket, she slid its 
blade into the crevice where the upper and the lower 
sashes met. slid back the catch gently, opened the win- 
dow, and climbed into the room. 


CHAPTER V. 

“born but for evil, and in evil lost.” 

Darkness and the stillness of death reigned eveiywhere 
as she issued from behind the curtains, and drawing them 
over the open window, groped her way along the wall 
in search of the door. Her feet sunk soundlessly into 
the heavy pile of the Turkish carpet — she moved on like a 
spirit or a shadow— found the door, opened it cautiously, 
and stood in the broad, luxurious hall. The newel lamp, 
turned low and burning like a cluster of small blue stars 
above the head of the bronze warrior that supported 
it, shed a faint light over the passage and guided her to 
the staircase — such a staircase as she had never seen be- 
fore, with its line of glittering, gold-framed paintings on 
one side, its massive agate baluster upon the other, and 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


23 


between the two a thick, soft carpet like a pathway of 
moss scattered with trailing flowers. 

“Cur.se him again— and double curse his brats!” she 
wheezed as she paused and surveyed her luxurious sur- 
roundings. “I dare say that any one o’ them thar painted 
gimcracks would a-kep’ us for a year, and wi’ all this 
about him he refused the colliers an extra two cents a ton 
and left us all to starve. If I knowed where his body lay 
I’d go and say a curse above it— a curse as bitter as he 
fetched to me and mine. If the dead can see what’s goin’ 
on on earth, I hope he’s lookin’ on me to-night and knows 
how I’n\ evenin’ up Mark Talford’s score!” 

Then planting her foot upon the lower step of th^ stair- 
case, she gripped the baluster and went swiftly and sound- 
lessly up to the floor above. 

The light faintly shining from beneath the door told her 
which was the sick-chamber, but passing by it, she entered 
a room on the left of the passage, closed and locked the 
door upon the inside, and crossing to tlie window, which 
gave access to the balcony, opened it softly and stepped out 
again into the night and the storm. 

Resting her hand against the wall of the hoxise to steady 
herself against the violent wind, she crept onward, reached 
the windows of the sick-room, and sinking on her knees, 
peered in between the half-parted curtains. 

There on the great carved and silk-hung bedstead, Inez, 
Lady Catheron, lay— a ghost of her own beautiful self, 
with her mournful eyes fixed upon the ceiling, the light 
aslant on her pale, spiritless face, and one arm softly in- 
folding a sleeping child, whose little head lay close to its 
mother’s breast. 

A fire was burning in the silver grate and shedding its 
ruddy gleam over the mn*se, who swaj'ed to and fro in a 
deep, soft rocker, and crooned to the other child, as she 
hushed it to sleep against her bosom ; and the sight of 
those two tenderly nurtured infants lying there in the 
very lap of luxury, Avhile her grandchild slept in the city 
jail. Avaiting to become a charge on the county, awoke in 
Hulda Talford’s bitter, resentful soul a storm of malicious 
spite Avhich drove her to redoubled curses, and filled her 
Avith a Avild longing to dash in and strangle the hated 
innocents. 

“ Not yet— not yet, ye fool!” she apostrophized herself, 
as her hand involuntarily lifted to smash the glass. 

“ There’s a bitterer A^engeance than death, there’s a worse 
Avay o’ squarin’ the account than by killin’ the brats, and 
Ave’ll bide our time, Hulda, till the women are asleep, and 
Ave can strike for Mark and his little one.” 

A look of almost fiendish exultation SAvept over her face 


24 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


as she uttered this; she shook her fist at the window, 
laughed a slow, soundless laugh as she crept back through 
the storm to the room she had just left, and climbing in 
closed the window, and curled herself up in the warm 
darkness to wait for the time to strike. 

Thrice in the hour that followed she repeated her jour- 
ney to Inez Catheron's window to look in upon that pict- 
ure, and thrice came back ; for, as though some warning 
spirit spoke to the mother’s heart, her eyes still remained 
sleepless, and her arm still encircled the child that lay 
against her bosom, even though its twin sister, and the 
nurse who guarded it, lay sleeping together on a cot beside 
the carven bedstead, and the lights had been turned low in 
order to woo slumber to the sufferer’s tortured brain. 

But even the heart’s agony cannot forever defy the 
laws of nature, and so it fell out that, when Hulda Talford 
made her fourth visit to the window of the sick-room, she 
found that there was no longer any wakeful eyes to dread, 
for wuth her beautiful, sorrowful face turned to the child 
she held, Inez, Lady Catheron, calmly and sweetly slept. 

“ I’ve bided my time, and it’s come at last,” muttered 
the woman, with a look of vindictive delight as she once 
more produced the old knife and attacked the catch of 
this window, as she had so successfully attacked the one 
below. ‘‘It’s after eleven o’clock; I heerd the servants 
go to bed half an hour ago, and all's ready to my hand 
now. I want those brats— both on ’em, and I’ll have ’em 
if I’m jugged for it afterward. 

‘‘There, the catch is back at last, and now, if you can 
see, Kingdon Catheron, I pray wi’ all my strength that 
your dead eyes are watchin’ this!'’ 

Gently, and w'ithout the faintest sound, the window was 
lifted as she stepped into the room, drawing the curtains 
together to shut out the draught lest it awaken either of 
the women before her plans could be carried out; then, 
sinking down upon her hands and knees, she crawled along 
the floor in the direction of the nurse’s cot. 

For a moment she crouched there utterly motionless— 
scarcely breathing— then her hand slid to her pocket, she 
took out the vial, uncorked it, poured a portion of its con- 
tents upon a cloth which she had taken from a chair in 
passing, and instantly the sweet, pungent odor of ether 
filled the heated air. 

She placed the bottle upon the floor beside her, and ris- 
ing softly to her knees, with one haiid covered her own 
mouth and nostrils, and with the other held the drugged 
cloth close to the nurse’s face. 

The woman stirred uneasily and bi'eathed a faint, wav- 
ering sigh, then her breathing became deeper and more 


THE KIN&S DAUGHTERS. 25 

regular for the next two minutes, and then Ilulda Talford 
touched her. 

There was no movement; she shook her; the woman 
never stirred. 

“She’s done for, and now for t’other un!” muttered 
Hulda Talford ; but even as she spoke she knew that her 
work in that direction would never be carried out; for 
just as she reached forth her hand to take up the vial and 
again saturate the cloth, she became conscious that some one 
had moved, had even spoken, and facing about so sud- 
denly that she upset the bottle and spilled its contents on 
the floor, she found herself looking into the dilated eyes 
and ghastly features of Inez Catheron. 

“Who’s there? Who are you? What do you want 
here?’’ exclaimed Mrs. Catheron, in a faint voice of weak- 
ness and terror. “Mrs. Glooth— Mrs. Glooth, there’s 
some one in the room!’’ Then, as that “some one’’ 
turned so that the light streamed over her dark, malig- 
nant face, and revealed it to her: 

“ Hulda Talford!’’ she added, in a gasping voice of hor- 
ror. “My Heaven, you!" 

With the soundless swiftness of a cat leaping, Hulda 
Talford pounced upon her before she could utter another 
word, and the cloth, with its now half-evaporated comple- 
ment of ether, was clapped over her mouth and nose. 

“Yes, it is Hulda Talford!’’ wheezed the woman, as she 
forced her back upon the pillows and glared down into 
her dilated eyes. “Hulda Talford, who’s come to pay 
back Kingdon Catheron’s children as he paid hers! I 
want his brats to make ’em lower than my boy’s lass may 
ever fall— to make ’em such women as honest folk’ll 
shrink from in horror, and if ’’ 

A scream broke over her words and cut the sentence 
short. The half evaporated ether was not strong enough 
to overpower the second victim, and tearing away the 
cloth with a mother’s despairing strength, as the child be- 
side her was torn from her grasp by the rude, vindictive 
hand of her assailant, Inez Catheron had sent up that one 
shrill, heart-broken cry, and then fainted upon her pillow. 

In a twinkling there was the sound of some one leaping 
out of bed and scurrying across the floor overhead, and 
realizing that that cry of horrified despair had awakened 
somebody, and she dared not lose a moment in effecting 
her escape, Hulda Talford dashed to the window, leaped 
out, and stifling the cries of the child with her hand, scur- 
ried along the balcony to the other room, passed through 
it like a flash, and went swiftly and silently down through 
the darkness to the library floor just as Martha, the house- 
maid, issued from her own apartment in a state of semi- 


26 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


dishabille, and came down the upper staircase with a 
lighted taper in her hand. 

Slie went straight to the door of the sick-room and 
tapped upon the panel. 

“ Mrs. Glooth!” she called out nervously, “ Mrs. Glooth, 
is there anything the matter?” 

There was no response, for in the room beyond the 
drugged and the senseless were alike deaf. 

“ Lor’, I was sure I heard something like a scream !” ex- 
claimed Martha in a bewildered tone. “ But they’re 
both fast asleep, and I must a-dreamed it, unless ” 

“ Good land! if that fool of a butler ain’t gone to bed 
and left the winder of the blue room wide open on a night 
like this. Like as not it was the storm I heerd, and 
it’s a precious good thing ! didn’t call loud enough to 
wake the missus, poor dear, for nuthin’ more than Jen- 
kin’s neglect— the blockhead!” 

Then, passing into the blue room, she softly closed the 
window, and climbing the staircase, went back to bed. 

Meantime Hulda Talford, with the stolen child wrapped 
in the folds of her cloak, and its cries hushed against her 
bosom, had passed through the library, made her escape 
from the house, and was now dashing toward the rear 
gate of the Park, and heading straight for the river. 

“ I must get into Pittsburgh before another hour is over 
my head,” she gasped as she ran along. “The child’s 
mother’ 11 put ’em on my track at once, and they’ll be arter 
me like a pack o’ bloodhounds soon. But they sha’n’t take 
the brat from me— I’ll jump into the river w’ it and we’ll 
be drowned together before I’ll let ’em lake it back to wealth 
and luxury like that. 

“ I meant to have ’em both, but I’ve been balked in that 
— I’ve been cheated out o’ half my revenge, but I won’t 
lose it all, and now I’ve gotten one o’ the brats in my arms, 

the d 1 himself sha’n’t tear it out of ’em and take it 

back alive. I’ll die wi’ it first — I swear I will!” 

And with this resolve in her mind, added to the fear 
that the pursuit might be begun at any moment, she ran 
onward, holding the child in a desperate clutch, passed 
through the rear gate of the Park, and made at all speed 
for the river. 

“I’ll try and cross on the ice if I hear ’em coming afore I 
can reach the Alleghany bridge !” she panted as she glanced 
down from the steep banks to the ice-choked river below. 
“ I must get into Pittsburg and steal aboard the next train 
as goes out— no matter where it goes— and lay low till I 
can clap the brat into some out-of-the-way poorhouse and 
let her stay there till she’s growed up, and me and Mark 
can claim her, and Eh! What’s that I heered?” 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


27 


She stopped abrupty as she uttered that last remark, 
and facing about, she bent forward and put her curved 
hand to her ear. 

Somewhere in the darkness and the distance a dog had 
sent forth a sudden bark, and hearing it again as she 
stopped to listen, she uttered a snarling cry of depair and 
started to run. 

“ They’re out arter me wi’ hounds!” she gasped breath- 
lessly. ” I dai'en’t hope to make the bridge. I must find 
some place where I can get down the river bank and cross 
on the ice. They’d ought to be some shrubs or something 
a-growin’ along the banks here. Blast the hounds! I’ve 
got to stop and look if there’s nothin’ to help me get 
down!” 

She crept to the snowy edge of the overhanging bank as 
she spoke, and bending over looked down into the dark- 
ness. 

” Yes, there’s shrubs here — I see ’em!” she cried out in 
a voice of delight, as she caught sight of some straggling 
branches peeping up a foot or two below the edge of the 
bank, and stepped to the brink for the purpose of reaching 
them. “ I’m hard put, but I won’t give up, and before 
those cursed hounds shall run me down ” 

If ever there was an end to that sentence no mortal ear 
heard it! Speaking, she reached the edge of the jutting 
bank and stepped not upon the earth as she fancied, but 
upon a mass of ice lying hidden beneath the snow. She 
threw out her arms in a vain effort to regain her balance 
as she felt herself falling, the child, thrown by this action 
a trifle to the left, dropped from her grasp and crashed 
among the thickest of the bushes, and the last she ever saw 
of it — the last she ever saw of anything in this world — she 
saw in that moment when Heaven overtook her. 

For a second only she swayed on the vei-ge of the over- 
hanging bank; for a second only her shrill, despairing cry 
rang through the air as she shot down through the dark- 
ness, then thex-e was a heavy, crunching sound, as her 
body struck and broke the ice below ; the gui’gle of water, 
swii’ling as it took her dowxi; the grinding of the floes, as 
they closed above her; and then — nothing but the noise of 
the storm and the Availing of a child caught in the bushes 
and swaying to and fro — a human pendulum between the 
snow above and the crunching ice in the death-tx-ap be- 
low ! 


28 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


CHAPTER VI. 

HOW HEAVEN DIRECTED IT, 

“Is— is it much further, Taric? Is that the bridge 
where the lights are shinin’? Oh, I’m so cold— so cold! 
Hush the cur and drive it back— it has followed us long 
eno’, and its barkin’ seems uncanny, wi’ this again’ my 
heart. Let us I’est somewhere. I tell ’ee I’m dead beat 
out.” 

“ Courage, courage, Bess, my lass. A bit more and we’ll 
reach the bridge. Stand out ag’in’ the storm awhile, there’s 
a dear. The trampin’ is nigh over ; and, thank God ! we 
have money enough to ride all the rest o’ the way, Bess.” 

And the speaker, a brawn young fellow of eight-and- 
twenty, with a dark, coppery skin, and a mass of curliug 
black hair falling almost to* his shoulders, and a rugged 
though kindly face looking out from beneath his battered 
hat, smiled tenderly upon his companion as he thus tried 
to cheer her, and gently stroked her long, dark hair. 

But cheering her was hard work to-night, for the first 
great sorrow of her young life had found its way to her, 
and her face, beautiful in spite of its sadness, wore a piti- 
ful look, which no word of his could drive away. 

In age she could not have been more than nineteen, and 
her strange, fanciful garb, made up as it was of many 
bright-hued materials, seemed somehow to add to her 
youthful appearance, for the ample skirts were short; she 
wore a scarlet kerchief, banded about her dark, luxuriant 
hair, and surmounted by an odd-looking “mob-cap,” of 
white and orange. 

She wore a dingy red shavr^l, folded over her shoulders, 
and bundled closely about something which she hugged to 
her breast with all the strength of her young arms, and 
like her companion’s, her skin was as dark and ruddy as 
molded copper. 

“ Shall we have enough to ride to New York. Taric?” she 
questioned, as they trudged onward together in the teeth 
of the storm. “We have tramped so many days it will be 
like heaven to ride, and you are sure we have enough?” 

“Ay, enough for that, and one steerage berth on the 
steamer, lass. I can work my passage home, you know, 
and, I thank God, we’ll be back wi’ our people again, and 
in our own loving country, lass.” 

“I wish we’d never left it!” .she responded, drearily. 
“ It’s as they told when we left the tribe. There’ d be hard 
times before us in a land where gypsies are not known, and 
I wish we’d never come to it, wi’ its wild, hard winters 
and its strange ways!” 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


29 


“Hush, Bess,” said Taric, gently. “We’d no choice, 
remember, lass. Some one had got to do the searching for 
Hulda the Weasel, now that The Kinchen is dead, and 
■when we drew lots by the camp-fire it fell to me. Remem- 
ber that The Kinchen’s death makes Hulda the Weasel 
the queen o’ the tribe; and if slie lives she must be found, 
or if she is dead her death must be clearly proven. It is 
now eight-and-twenty years since she left England and 
went to the far west, and since that time no word of hers 
has reached the tribe. There were many lives betwixt 
her and the Romany rule, and no one dreamed that they 
would be all swept away. But since they have been, she 
must be traced, lass, and thank God tliat our part of the 
work is done and over. We’ve spent the allotted year 
trying to find her, now we’ll go back to let others take up 
the task. Heaven knows it’s been bitter enough on us, 
my lass, since it has cost us Zillah’s life!” 

“ Don’t 1” she cried out in a broken voice, as she strained 
the burden she bore closer to her bosom, and bowed her 
face above it with a burst of teax’s. ‘ ‘ I’m not used to it 
yet, Taric! It’s only four houi*s since the breath went 
outer her wee body, and my heart is breaking — bi-eaking! 
Oh, drive off that dog! He’s been following us and bark- 
ing at our heels since Zillah closed her ej^es. I tell ’ee it’s 
an uncanny dog, Taric. It sniffs the dead, and I won’t 
put her down until he leaves us. Oh, my wee one, my 
wee one! to think thou’rt never to see thy mother’s coun- 
ti'y, to think thou Avei’t only to know two poor months o’ 
life, Avhen I loved thee so ! Drive off the dog, Taiuc— I tell 
’ee its barking makes me creep.” 

A dozen times Taric had vainly striven to do this since 
the animal began to follow them, but now he adopted a 
diffei-ent plan to get rid of the animal. 

Stooping down and ci’oucbing in the snow, until the 
snaiding cur di’ew near and began to sniff about him. he 
suddenly pounced upon it by the throat, and di-agging it 
to the river bank hurled it over into the dai'kness. 

“Thou’rt rid of it now, Bess,” he said, “ and we can lay 
the wee one away without fear. We cannot take its little 
body away with us to the city, lass, and so ” 

He stopped abruptly and faced about with a startled 
gasp. SomeAvhei’e in the darkness beyond a woman’s 
voice had suddenly sent foi*th a piercing shriek that ceased 
at its wildest point, as though something had closed the 
mouth from which it issued. 

“There’s summat wrong, lass!” exclaimed Taidc, dash- 
ing forwai’d in the direction fi-om whence the cry had 
arisen. “ It’s a woman in sore need of help. Come, Bess, 
come!” 


30 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


She followed without hesitation, all her weakness for- 
gotten in the excitement of the thing; but although they 
both searched about them as they ran, and Taric called 
out frequently, they saw neither sight nor sign of any- 
thing, and the piercing cry rose never again to guide 
them. 

“ It was the death-fetch o’ the uncanny dog!” gasped 
Bess, catching her husband by the arm. ” There’s nob- 
but oursel’s here, Taric; let us go before it speers us.” 

“Hark!” he cut in shai-ply. ‘‘Hark! what's that? 
Don’t ’ee hear a ‘wailin’,’ Bess? A wailin’ like— like Zil- 
lah used to make?” 

‘‘Ay! there— there!” she gasped, pointing to the river 
bank. ‘‘ But don’t ’ee go a-nigh it, Taric. It’s the leadin’ 
o’ the uncanny dog.” 

“ It isn’t— it’s a child!'’ he answered, breathlessly. 

Then hastening to the spot whence the wailing cries 
arose, he sunk down upon his hands and knees, and crawl- 
ing forward, peered over into the darkness. 

Tliei’e, not two feet below him, caught in the thick 
bushes and dangling over certain death, hung the tiny 
body of Inez Catheron’s stolen child. 

Calling Bess to him, and creeping closer to the edge of 
the embankment, and reaching down until his strong 
hand gripped the wailing infant, Taric lifted it from its 
dangerous perch and held it up. 

With a sharp and sudden cry, Bess pounced upon it and 
hugged it to her bosom. 

‘‘ Give it to me; the Lord sent it to me, and it’s mine — 
mine!” 

Then wrapping her shawl about it and kneeling in the 
storm, she fell to swaying backward and forward, and 
crooning as she hushed its cries against her bosom. 

‘‘ Look how it stills!” she cried, with a short, hysterical 
laugh. ‘‘ It knows me — it knows me, Taric! and the Lord 
has sent Zillah’s soul back to me in a stronger body.” 

‘‘ Nay, I think not,” responded Taric, who, while he still 
had much of the Eomany faith in the transmigration of 
souls— a faith as old as Py thogoras— had noted the delicate 
texture of the child’s garments, and recalled the woman’s 
scream as coupled with this and the position in which he 
had discovered the infant. ‘‘ It is a child of wealth, and 
I fear some one has either tried to destroy it, or has been 
injured by an accident, which ” 

•‘ It is mine, I tell ’ee!” broke in Bess, vehemently. ‘‘It’s 
Zillah’s soul come back to me in a stronger and better 
body. Take away the other — it’s only clay, my wee one’^ 
soul is here.” 

” But some one may claim it, Bess,” 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


31 


“I won’t give it up— it’s mine, I tell ’ee — mine! There 
can’t nobbut claim my own wee one. Why should they?” 

” Some one may recognize its garments,” began Taric, 
but almost as soon as he suggested the thing. Bess had 
torn off the tiny embroidered slip and the little woolen 
sack and thrown them before him. 

“Gimme those on the body she used to own!” she cried, 
as she cuddled the child to her bosom and held the shawl 
over it. “If there’s them as dare claim these, let ’em 
claim the clay wi’ ’em, for I tell ’ee I won’t give my wee 
one up. See how she knows me, my blessed. See how she 
creeps to my heart and stops her cry in’. Hush, thee wee 
one I thou’lt see thy mother’s land and thy mother’s peo- 
ple after, all and thou’lt go home wi’ us, my Zillah, home 
wi’ us.” 

Taric saw there was no use trying to reason with her; 
indeed, to tell the truth, he was overjoyed to see her so 
blythe and happy once more, and without a word obeyed 
her request and stripped the clothing off from his own 
dead child to array the little foundling. 

Screening it tenderly with her shawl, Bess di*ew the 
coarse garments upon it, and then holding it close to her 
heart began to croon to it and nurse it, while Tai*ic, with 
reverent hands, scooped a little grave in the snow bank 
for the child who had perished on the journey home. 

It had gone as it had come, with his heart held in the 
clasp of its baby fingers, and a stranger had taken its 
place. 

But, after all, what did it matter so that Bess was satis- 
fied and he knew that the one he had loved was gone be- 
yond recall, even ere this one came? 

He would love it for bringing the smiles back to Bess’ 
lips; he would be tender with it for the sake of the little 
one over whose grave it had come to them, and into whose 
place it had crept ; and so, gently brushing the snow that 
covered his dead, he arose, and again facing the storm 
with Bess, passed on and went his way, taking the child 
with him to the life that awaited her in the land beyond 
the sea. 


CHAPTER VII. 

THE BANKRUPT HEART. 

“Well, it’s my private opinion that folks in this house 
have all gone crazy!” announced Martha, the housemaid, 
returning from her fifth trip to the dining-room— for the 
purpose of ascertaining the time— and hurling this “pri- 
vate opinion” at the heads of her half dozen colleagues 
who were clustered about the kitchen-table and deep in 


33 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


the enjoyment of a substantial breakfast. “First of all, 
there’s Herrick as says he didn't leave the winder of the 
blue room standing wide open in all that storm last night, 
and ’’ 

“ More I didn’t!’ cut in the butler, sullenly, “I’m no 
fool not to know Avhat I’m a-doin’ of, and I tell you I 
didn’t touch the winder o’ the blue room. I tried the door 
when I went up to bed, and it was locked tight and fast, 
and if there’s anybody that’s crazy in this house, it’s you, 
Martha Boggs, and that’s flat. You dreamed all that there 
nonsense about gittin’ out o’ bed and findin’ the winder of 
the blue room open, that’s what you did.” 

“ Did I, indeed?” retorted Martha, with a look and tone 
of blighting sarcasm. “Well, my wits is as sharp as 
them o’ some persons as I could mention, and as I don’t 
have the keys o’ the wine cellar at my fingers’ ends, I’m 
a deal less likely to be mistook about things as happens 
alter I’ve gone up to bed, Herrick Johnston, I can tell you 
that! Dreamed it, indeed! Maybe, now, you’ll tell me 
that I’m dreamin’ that it’s half past six o’clock, and Mrs. 
Glooth ain’t come down yet for the broth as she told cook 
to have ready at six sharp— you’re so terrible certain as 
everybody dreams but you!" 

At that moment the kitchen door opened and closed 
with a bang, and a small boy, whose eyes seemed popping 
out of his head, came dashing into the room. 

It was the head gardener’s son, and, from his breathless 
state and his excited appearance, it was evident that he 
had run all the way from the gardener’s lodge, and was 
the bearer of some important piece of news. 

“ Say !” belched forth the boy — “ say, my mother wants 
to know if you’re all blamed fools over here, and, if you 
ain’t, what kind of a nurse you’ve got, to go leave Mis’ 
Catheron’s bedroom winder standin’ wide open in de mid- 
dle of de winter, and her sick a- bed?” 

A bomb-shell exploding in their midst, or the ceiling 
crashing suddenly down upon their unsuspecting heads, 
could not have produced a greater panic among the serv- 
ants than that startling announcement; and, as though 
actuated by one common impulse, they leaped to their 
feet, rushed to the door, and scurried out into the snowy 
grounds. 

A single glance was enough to proclaim the truth of the 
boy’s statement. 

The window’- of Mrs. Catheron’s bed’-chamber was stand- 
ing wide open, and the curtains, drawn outward by the 
current of air, were flapping like signals of distress in the 
blustery February morning. 

For a moment the servants stood as though spell -bound, 


THE KING'S daughters. 


33 


their eyes dilated, and their thoughts full of unutterable 
things; then, with a starled cry of teiTor and amazement: 

“Look! look!” screamed Martha, clutching Herrick’s 
arm, and pointing to the lower balcony. “H’he library 
Avindow is open, too! Something has happened in the 
night, and I did not dream that missus called!” 

Then, scarcely hearing the horrified cry which greeted 
her words, she broke away from her companions, and 
shouting breathlessly “Come!” darted back to the kitchen 
door and dashed into the house. 

The panic-stricken crowd Avas at her heels before she 
reached the hallway, and surged about her— clamoring, 
screaming, trembling— as she scurried up the stairs. 

From staircase to staircase she raced onward, calling to 
Mrs. Glooth as she ran, but receiving no response— and so 
dashing onward and upward, Avith the pack of frightened 
servants at her heels, reached Inez Catheron’s door, and 
Avildly beat it Avith her frantic hands. 

“Mrs. Glooth! Mi’s. Glooth! Wake up! Avakeup!”she 
screamed, as she pounded the panels of the door. “ Ai’e 
you deaf or dead? Wake up! Avake up! for God’s sake, 
Mrs. Glooth!” 

But noAv, as ever, no ansAver came. 

“Stand aside, Martha, and let me break in the door!” 
exclaimed the butler, excitedly, Avhen it became evident 
that no noise, however loud, had power to elicit a response. 
“God help us! but I’m afeared there’s summat Avrong in 
there. Stand aside, I say, and let me break in the door!” 

Sick and faint with terror, the girl obeyed ; and gather- 
ing ’nis whole strength for the effort, Herrick hurled his 
heavy body against the Avooden bari’ier. 

It gave way Avith a heavy crash, and precipitated him 
headlong into the room; and then ensued a scene of the 
wildest excitement possible to conceive. 

Pantijig and trembling in their terror, the servants 
dashed into the ice-cold room; a cry — sharp, shrill, full of 
horror — went up from every lip; and then there fell a si- 
lence, more appalling than the sound, as they huddled to- 
gether and stared at the picture Avhich Avas to go down 
with them to the grave. 

The silken curtains, catching the draught created by the 
open door, blew outward and upward, and let the gray 
light of the morning stream into the dainty chamber; and 
by it they saw — those horrified men and Avomen— the mo- 
tionless figure of Mrs. Glooth, as she lay on the cot-bed, 
with her arms folded about something that Avas rolled in a 
warm, thick shawl, and held close to her bosom ; Avhile on 
the couch beside her — just as she fell when she swooned 
last night--her gold hair tumbled, her hands clinched in 


34 


THE KING'S daughters. 


the bed-clothes, and the gray light of the morning stream- 
ing over her colorless face, Inez, Lady Catheron lay before 
them— dead ! 


CHAPTER VIIL 

“ring out your bells, let mourning shows be 

SPREAD.” 

For one moment not a sound broke the stillness, as that 
hori’ified group huddled, and dumbly stai’ed at the beau- 
tiful dead face among the pillows; then there was a gasp 
— a movement— the shrieks of women and the groans of 
men, and then “confusion worse confounded.” 

With a cry of keenest anguish, Martha threw herself 
across the body of her mistress, and frantically called her 
name, and chaffed her stiffened hands, in vain effort to in- 
fuse some warmth into them; and in the midst of the ex- 
citement, the feeble wailing of a child trembled piteously 
through the room and drew her attention to the cot. 

“ Missus is dead— missus is dead, and we must get the 
children out of this ice-cold room afore it kills them, too,” 
panted poor Martha, in an agony of alarm, as she rushed 
to the cot and vainly endeavored to awaken Mrs. Glooth. 
“Herrick — John — somebody! Go for the doctor — ring the 
alarm ; there’s been dark work here, and I’m afeard it’s 
them dreadful strikers! Mrs. Glooth, Mrs. Glooth! for 
God’s sake wake up! I can’t get the babies out of your 
arms, you hold them so terrible tight, and ” 

A scream— shrill, agonizing, dreadful— brought the sent- 
ence to a close; and uttering it, Martha recoiled from the 
cot and clapped both hands to her temples. 

“ What is it?— what’s the matter?” gasped her compan- 
ions, excitedly; and almost on the same instant: 

“She’s dead, too— she’s dead too!” whispered Martha, 
throwing out oue hand and frantically Avaving it toward 
the motionless figure of Mrs. Glooth. “She’s dead, and 
there’s only one child in her arms! My Heaven, only one! 
Send out an alarm— ring the bell— go for the police! 
There’s been murder here— murder and abduction, and 
one of the childi’en is gone!” 

The excitement which had prevailed when the door was 
broken in was as nothing to that which ensued now. 

The women shrieked and ran in a dozen different direc- 
tions to search for the missing child, whilst Martha, nerv- 
ing herself to the ordeal, fell upon her knees beside the 
cot, and forcing open the rigid arms of Mrs. Glooth. tore 
the wailing infant from her dead embrace and hushed its 
cries against her own tender heart ; and presently, as if to 
add the last dreadful adjunct to this tragedy of lioi’ror, 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


35 


Herrick climbed the stairs of the belfry and sent an alarm 
booming out over the frosty stillness of the winter morn- 
ing, and for the next half hour Catheron Park was the 
scene of an excitement which utterly beggars description. 

The doctor was sent for in post haste, and rode back 
with the hostler at break-neck speed ; but, quickly as he 
responded to the call, the police — summoned to the theater 
of the tragedy by the pealing of the alarm-bell — had fore- 
stalled him, and he found Catheron Park in charge of the 
authorities. 

The chief of police met him in the lower hall, and es- 
corted him to the chamber of his former patient. 

She was past hope — he saw that at a glance, and, draw- 
ing the sheet over her dead face, turned away with a sigh, 
and gave his attention to Mrs. Glooth. 

“ I can do nothing hei’e. either, sir,” he sorrowfully ad- 
mitted to the chief, after he had examined the body of the 
nurse. ‘‘Mrs. Catheron’s death is due to shock and ex- 
posure, at such a critical period, but this poor creature’s 
fate mystifies me completely. I have known for some 
time that her heart was slightly affected, but I never 
thought it a very serious case, nor yet anticipated any 
fatal result.” 

‘‘ Still persons whose hearts are only slightly affected are 
apt to die when an anaesthetic is administered, are they 
not, doctor?” asked the chief. 

” Yes; it is always dangerous where there is any heart 
trouble whatsoever,” returned Dr. Harrowby, ‘‘and if an 
anaesthetic had been administered to this poor creature, I 
should unhesitatingly pronounce that the cause of death, 
but since it has not been administered ” 

‘‘Your pardon, doctor, but it has!" interrupted the 
chief, quietly. “ If you will look at this vial you will see 
by the label that it formerly contained ether. I found it 
upon the floor beside Mrs. Glooth’s body, but, before us- 
ing it as a means of discovering the perpetrator of this 
horrible deed, I wish you to examine it, doctor, and tell 
me if it really did contain ether, or if that label is only a 
blind.” 

Dr. Harrowby took the bottle, examined it closely, smelled 
it, and assured the chief that the label truthfully repre- 
sented the former contents. 

‘‘ And this cloth, which was picked up from the floor, 
doctor— has it not been used for the purpose of administer- 
ing the anaesthetic?” 

Again Dr. Harrowby made an examination, and again 
answered in the affirmative. 

‘‘ Clearly, then, these two women here, like the master 
of the house, met death at the hands of an assassin,” said 


36 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


the chief, as he took the bottle and the cloth from the doc- 
tor; “and, as this second tragedy has— by reason of its 
close following upon the first, and the abduction of one of 
the infants— every appearance of an act of revenge, it may 
fairly be attributed to the same cause — that is: the strike 
—and some one of the four hundred striking colliers must, 
therefore, be held accountable for the deed.” 

“ Your reasoning seems sound enough to my way of 
thinking, sir,” returned Dr, Harrowby. “But out of four 
hundred suspected persons will it not be almost impossible 
to discover the guilty one? Ah, if only Mrs. Glooth had 
survived, we might have had some definite clew to aid us 
in the apprehension of the monster.” 

“ I think not, doctor,” responded the chief. “From the 
position of the body, I believe the woman was sleeping at 
the time the ether was administered, and could, had she 
lived, have given us no clew to a person she never saw, 
and whose presence in the apartment was unknown to her. 

“But it is not the identification of the assassin which 
troubles me. I shall convince you presently that it will 
not be so difficult as you imagine to find a clew to him ; 
but it is the identification of the stolen child which puz- 
zles me most, and it is for that i-eason I desired to have a 
talk with you. It would be somewhat difficult for a 
stranger to identify a child which was less than two days 
old at the time of its abduction, and which, without some 
distinctive mark, coiild scarcely be told from any other 
child of like age at such a tender period of its existence; 
and in order that we may not have some other child 
palmed off upon us, should we succeed in tracing the miss- 
ing infant. I am obliged to appeal to you for whatever aid 
you can give us in the matter. You, I believe, attended 
the unfortunate mother at the time the children were born. 
Will you, then, tell me if either or both bore any birth- 
mark, any peculiarity of feature, which would be liable to 
prove a means of establishing the identity of the stolen 
child?” 

Dr. Harrowby shook his head gravely. 

“I could not say, ” he answered. “ The tragical circum- 
stances attending the birth of the children — that is to say, 
the murder of Mr. Catheron— had thrown the mother into 
such a state of mental excitement that she demanded all 
my attention in ordei’ to save her life and reason; and I 
barely gave the infants a passing glance. If there had 
been any birth-mark upon either, the nurse was the one 
who would have been most likely to know it; and she, 
poor creature, is beyond telling us now.” 

“Then you cannot give us even the slightest mark of 
identification, doctor?” 


THE KINHS DAUGHTERS. 


37 


“Not even the slightest, Mr. Bryce. But possibly some 
of the household servants ” 

The chief put up his hand with a gesture of wild de- 
spair. 

“I have already questioned, but they know nothing,” 
he interrupted. “ Not qne of them ever saw either of the 
children until this morning. They were not, of course, 
permitted to enter this room so soon after the birth of the 
infants, and, save the girl Martha — who seems to have 
been a favorite with her late mistress— no one can give us 
a clew to anything connected with them. And even the 
little she can tell promises but^mall results. It appears that 
she not only aided in the construction of certain parts of 
the infant wardrobe, prior to the birth of tlie children, but 
had seen every article comprised in it, and remembers all 
distinctly. After searching through the entire lot, she 
finds that one costume is missing, and it is therefore only a 
plausible theory that the child wore it when stolen. The 
description of "that costume I have written down in my 
note- book, and it is this: 

“ ‘ A night-robe of finest linen, richlj’- embroidered in a 
peculiar serpentine pattern of daisies, the wrists and neck 
edged with narrow Valenciennes lace. Also a pair of 
“bootees” of pink and white avooI, tied with narrow pink 
satin ribbons, and a heavily embroidered “ pinning blan- 
ket ” of fine white flannel, which must, since they are 
missing, have been secured by two safety-pins of solid 
gold !’ 

“ It is, you see, doctor, a very minute description, but 
one not likely to be of any great service to us, since tlie 
child’s garments could readily be thrown away, or even 
placed upon some other infant, and thus baffle us com- 
pletely. However, I have sent men out with directions 
to scour the counti-y in quest of any person or persons 
who may have been seen having in charge a child so 
dressed, and have also sent word of this second tragedy 
to the late Mr. Catheron’s solicitor at Pittsburg. Pend- 
ing his arrival, let us go below and ascertain if my men 
have made any new discovery.” 

Nothing loath. Dr. Harrowby followed him from the 
room ; the officer on guard closed the door as they passed 
out, and in the gray light of the winter morning, all that 
Avas mortal of Inez Catheron and Hester Glooth lay in the 
death chamber undisturbed and alone. 

The news of the second tragedy at Catheron Park had 
spread like wildfire, and by this time the grounds were 
surrounded by a perfect mob which momentarily swelled 
as men, women and children flocked up from the mining 


38 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


district and huddled about the gates, talking in hoarse 
whispers and staring with pale faces and dilated eyes at 
the great stone manson which had so often seemed to 
them like some fairj palace where peace and plenty made 
life a dream, but which stood to-day, under the gray 
shadow of the February sky, grim, desolate, forbidding, 
as though it were in truth a house accursed and resting 
“ Under some prodigious ban 
Of excommunication.” 

Down-stairs in the culinary department, the servants, 
under the surveillance of an officer, huddled around the 
kitchen range and discussed in hushed voices the grew- 
some tragedy and their own prospects of ano^/ter situation; 
in the morning-room, where a wood fire burned in the low 
grate, Martha — also under guard— paced up and down the 
floor, lulling the orphaned heiress to sleep, and alternately 
kissing its golden head and bathing its tiny face with tears, 
and in the wide, luxurious entrance hall a knot of officers 
stood before the door of a room, where yet another silent 
figure lay in all the aAvful majesty of death, and with low- 
ered voices, discussed amongst themselves the outlook of 
the case as Chief Bryce and Dr. Harrowby came softly 
down-stairs. 

“Hadly, I want you!” 

The voice was Bryce's, and at its sound one of the offi- 
cers stepped briskly away from his companions and ad- 
vanced to meet his chief. 

“ Mount the swiftest horse you can get and ride down to 
Hosmer, the druggist, with this bottle,” exclaimed Mr. 
Bryce, putting into the man’s hand the vial which had 
been found beside the body of Hester Glooth. ” It form- 
ei-ly contained an anaesthetic, Avhich, according to the la- 
bel, was supplied by him on the prescription of one Dr. 
Bristow. Ask Hosmer to look at his book, and tell you to 

whom the bottle was given when filled, and Stop a 

moment! lose no time in returning to me with the report. 
I need not tell you to keep your errand secret and to bid 
Hosmer do the same. Now go.” 

Without a word, Hadley touched his cap and vanished, 
and one minute later. Dr. Harrowby, looking through the 
glass panel of the vestibule door, saw him gallop down the 
drive, swing out through the gates, and race away at 
break-neck speed in the direction of Alleghany City. 

“I see your drift, Mr. Bryce,” he said, as he turned 
away and followed the chief to the library. ” The empty 
bottle is a valuable clew ; For the man who purchased the 
ether must certainly be the murderer.” 

“Not necessarily, doctor,” responded the chief. “It 
may have passed out of the original purchaser’s hands. 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


39 


but when we discover Mm. we can soon ferret out to 
whom he gave it, or, if stolen from him, when and how 
it was lost. It is not—as I have already told you — the 
identity of the assassin, which promises so much trouble 
in this case, doctor, but it is the identity of the child.” 

Was Mr. Bryce among the prophets? 

In the strange, dark, after years, when this grewsorae 
tragedy was recalled to his mind by the famous “case” 
that grew out of it. Dr. Harrowby often asked himself that 
puzzling question. 

For the present, however, he gave his whole attention 
to the chief's theories— propounded as a sort of stop-gap, 
pending the return of Hadley ; and for more than an hour 
the second tragedy in Catheron Park was discussed in all 
its phases; the certainty that it was a direct outcome of 
the strike was established in the minds of both men, be- 
yond peradventui'e; and Harrowby had ah*eady begun to 
believe that the murderer was as good as caught, when 
the library door was thrown open, and Hadley stepped into 
the room. 

Chief Bryce was on his feet like a shot; but before 
even he could frame the all-important question, Hadley 
gave the answer. 

” I have seen Hosmer, and found out everything, chief,” 
he said, as he advanced. ‘‘The prescription was filled 
last winter, and delivered to the man who was ‘ sent up ’ 
yesterday— Mark Talford.” 

“Mark Talford!” 

“Yes, chief— the husband of the woman who shot Mr. 
Catheron the night before last, and whose mother is at 
present the only member of the family not in the hands 
of the authorities for implication in ” 

“Find that woman— find that woman, and arrest her 
without delay!” cut in Mr. Bryce, excitedly. “ Fool that 
I was— not to have thought of Hulda Talford before this. 
I said, when I saw her at her son’s trial, that she was just 
the kind of woman to carry a grudge forever; she had the 
look of a ‘ bad lot, ’ and there was the devil in her eyes 
when Mr. Catheron gave his testimony. And yet, in the 
face of that, I have been blockhead enough to forget all 
about her; and ten to one she has got the start of us, and 
is— Heaven knows where, by this time. Quick, Hadley! 
Back to the station with you, and send out a general 
alarm. Telegraph all down the line to have that woman 
arrested on sight; send Barden and Simmonds to the min- 
ing district to search for her there, and if ” 

The sentence remained forever unfinished. 

At that moment there was a commotion in the outer 


40 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


hall, the libraiy door flew suddenly open, and one of the 
officers stepped hastily into the room. 

“I beg your pardon, chief,” he said, excitedly. “I 
don’t know when these horrors are going to end; but 
Dorker has just brought in news of another tragedy, 
su\” 

“ Another tragedy?” 

“Yes, chief. You know that tough- looking character 
— the mother of the man who was ‘ sent up ’ for the as- 
sault on the late Mr. Catheron?” 

“ Hulda Talford — you mean Hulda Talford, Simmonds?” 
gasped Bryce, excitedly. “ Speak quickly, man. Is there 
any news of her?” 

“Yes, chief,” responded Simmonds, briskly. “She’s 
been drowned, and they have just fished her body out of 
the Alleghany River and taken it to the Morgue.” 


CHAPTER IX. 

THE FmST ENDING OF THE TRAGEDY. 

Mr. Bryce uttered a groan of dismay and dropped into 
the nearest chair. 

“ Drowned!” he exclaimed, despairingly, as he lifted his 
eyes to Simmond’s face. ‘ ‘ Hulda Talford drowned ! Good 
Heaven! is it possible that Fate can be so ci-uel?” 

“Say, rather, that Fate has been most just, Mr. Bryce!” 
interposed Dr. Karrowby, somewhat reproachfully; “for, 
if Hulda Talford be, indeed, the guilty party — and in the 
face of the evidence she undoubtedly is — sui-ely Heaven 
has overtaken her with but little delay, and proved once 
again that ‘ the wages of sin is death.’ If she has es- 
caped the vengeance of man, she has, at least, been 
called to account by her Maker; and what does it matter, 
after all, how a murderess dies, so long as the world is rid 
of her?” 

“ Do you think I am regretting her fate?” responded Mr. 
Bryce, as he rose to his feet. ‘ ‘ Do you think I am wast- 
ing any sorrow over the fact that the state has been spared 
the expense of trying her for her life, and the gallows been 
cheated of its just due? It is not for the guilty I am sorry, 
but for the innocent, doctor. With that woman’s death 
the Catheron case ends, so far as the authorities are con- 
cerned, and I have no longer any cause to give the matter 
my attention. All is over, the murder avenged, and there 
is nothing more for the police to do.” 

“Surely, Mr. Bryce, you cannot mean that! Recollect 
the stolen child. You certainly will not relax your efforts 
to find her, simply because Heav^i in its .own wise way 
has seen fit to punish her abductor?” 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


41 


“Ay, and in that punishment, sir, encompassed the 
death of her little victim !” returned Mi*. Bryce. “Can 
you not reason this thing out, doctor, knowing where 
the woman’s body was found? To my way of thinking, 
it is a clear case of suicide— a Samson-like suicide, if you 
will, which in its own end brings the destruction of oth- 
ers.” 

“ Good Heaven! you cannot surely mean ” 

“That Hulda Talford, knowing it to be impossible to 
escape the punishment of her crimes, deliberately threw 
herself — and the child she had stolen— into the river, and 
died gloating over the knowledge that she had avenged 
her fancied wrongs by the almost total extinction of the 
family she hated,” supplemented Mr. Bryce. 

“ Depend upon it, doctorT at some time, sooner or later, 
the body of the stolen child will be found, and the truth 
of my theory will be established beyond the shadow of a 
doubt.” 

Dr. Harrowby made no response. Backed by such 
reasoning as he brought forth to substantiate it, Mr. 
Bryce’s theory seemed very plausible, and he had just 
branched off into another argument in favor of his 
views upon the subject, when one of his men appeared 
at the door of the library and announced the arrival of 
Mr. Maverick Narkland, the late Kingdon Catheron’s so- 
licitor. 

He came in — a tall, dignified man of five-and forty, 
with “the majesty of the law” written all over him; 
the officers were turned out, the three professional gen- 
tlemen drew up their chairs, and once again the matter 
was begun at the beginning and discussed all over 
again. 

For two hours they remained there in solemn conclave, 
and when, at last, this grave council of three came to an 
end, Mr. Bryce’s theory was very firmly impi'essed upon 
the minds of his two companions. 

“As far as lean see. gentlemen, my better plan is. then, 
to cable Lord Gian dore the sad intelligence of his daugh- 
ter’s death, and to say nothing regarding the lost child 
until we have more positive evidence of its fate, or until 
his lordship arrives in America to take charge of his re- 
maining grandchild,” announced Mr. Narkland, as he 
arose to take his departure. “The news of his daughter’s 
death, following so soon upon that of her husband, will be 
a terrible shock to his lordship, and it would be cruel to 
further distress him by mentioning the abduction and 
probable slaying of the child, until time has blunted the 
keenness of his sorrow, and he is better prepai’ed to stand 
the blow.” 


42 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


In this opinion both the doctor and the chief of police 
heartily concurred, and, after a few further remarks upon 
the sorrowful subject, Mr. Narkland bowed himself out of 
the room and hastily took his departure. 

One hour later the message containing the news of King- 
don Catheron’s murder, together with that of the mater- 
nity and subsequent death of the Lady Inez, flashed over 
the Atlantic cable to Lord Glandore. 

By nightfall an answer Avas returned, and, reading it, 
as he sat alone in his office. Maverick Narkland felt that 
he had done well in lessening the crushing blow “ even a 
little.” 

It told him, that answering cablfegram, that Lord Glan- 
dore had been ill for several weeks, and even if the news 
of his daughter’s death had not crushed and bent him to 
the earth, it would still have been impossible for him to 
dream of taking an ocean voyage in his present state of 
health. 

The doctors had forbidden him to think of attempting 
such a thing, but his sister. Lady Katherine Morford, had 
kindly consented to represent him by proxy, and would 
start for America, by the first outgoing steamer, to look 
after the welfare of his orphaned grandchild. 

Maverick Narkland dropped tlie cablegram as he fin- 
ished reading it, and something like a mist moved over 
his eyes as he thought of that day when Lady Inez Cath- 
eron came as a bride to the fatal house where she lay to- 
night — a corpse ! 

sH ***** * 

On the morrow the coroner’s inquest took place in the 
long, oak-paneled billiard-room at Catheron Park, and 
four days later — having been deferred as long as possible 
in the vain hope of Lady Morfoi'd’s arrival— a solemn 
train of carriages wound out through the gates of the 
park, followed by an immense concourse of people, took 
its way to Hilldale Cemetery, and there, under a wild, 
gray, rainy sky, the last sad intes were performed over 
two coffins, and all that ivas mortal of Kingdon Catheron 
and his wife were laid in the one grave, out of the siglit 
of men and the world forever and aye ! 

Through the stormy twilight of the last February day, 
the carriages and the empty hearse rolled out of the 
graveyard, and left them to their dreamless sleep and the 
last, most perfect union of their loving souls — ‘‘twain 
halves of a sundered heart made fast, to never more be 
parted.” 

On the morning of the third of March, Lady Morford, a 
sweet-faced, sweet-voiced woman, so like to her dead mis- 
tress that Martha’s heart went out to her with one great 


THE KINHS DAUGHTERS. 


43 


bound, arrived at Catheron Park, and for the first time 
learned the truth regarding the tragedy of the stolen 
child. 

“ Oh, Mr. Narkland, how can I thank you for having 
kept the knowledge from my poor brother?” she said, with 
a rush of sudden teai-s, wlien he had told her all. “ His 
whole life was centered in Inez, and terribly as he has been 
smitten by the news of her death, if he heard tha,t she 
died through violence, I believe the blow would kill him. 
Better a thousand times that he should never learn that 
there wei’e twin children born, than that the horrible truth 
should ever reach his ears. Until we know for certain 
that the poor, stolen darling is really dead, I should only 
mention the birth of one.” 

” And after that, jour ladyship, after we have proved 
its death — what then?” 

“It would do no good to undeceive him,” she answered, 
sadly ; “ and I will still keep the secret. In the interest of 
little Inez— for such this child shall be christened— I think 
it will be better to settle up the estate as soon as possible, 
Mr. Narkland. for she will, of course, make her homo 
in England in the future. Lord Gland ore, as her 
grandfathei’, becomes, of course, her legal guardian; and 
he has expressed a wish to have her brought to him as 
soon as she is strong enough to stand an ocean voyage, and 
that wish I shall certainly respect.” 

“Oh, take me with you, my lady, please — please take 
me with you!” broke in Martha, at this juncture. “She’s 
never left me for one moment since her beautiful mother 
died; she’s growed to be part o’ me, like, my lady, and — 
oh 1 if you take her from me you’ll surely break my heart. 
Oh, don’t say no. Lady Morford, please— please don’t say 
no! She’ll need a nurse to take care of her, and I’ll bo 
a slave to her if you’ll only let me go with her, my lady. 
I’ll watch her night and day. I won’t let one hair of her 
head ever be injured, and I’ll never tell Lord Glandore 
about the other one. I’ll promise never to breatiie a word 
of it, never to think of it, even, if you’ll only let me go!” 

The evident sincerity of the girl touched her ladyship 
deeply, her eyes filled with tears, and gently patting Mar- 
tha on the shoulder : 

“You are a good and faithful creature!” she said. “ I 
believe that you will keep your promise, Martha, and — 
you shall go! No, never mind thanking me, and don’t 
devour little Inez in your joy. We want her to gain all 
the strength possible during the next five or six weeks, 
at the expiration of which time I hope to have matters 
somewhat settled, and to find baby in a condition to stand 
the voyage. It will be advisable to place all my late 


44 


THE KINOES DAUGHTERS. 


nephew’s real estate upon the market as soon as possible. 
I think, Mr. Narkland, and dispose of it without delay. In 
the meantime, let every effort be made to trace the lost 
child, for if I leave this land uncertain of its fate, I shall 
never know a moment’s peace to the day I die!” 

But to leave America without being convinced of the lost 
child’s death, was not wi*itten against Lady Morford’s 
name in the book of human destiny ; for long before the 
April rains came to melt the snow-drifts by the river- 
side, the papers were full of a ghastly “find” made by 
two boys who were trudging along to reach the Pittsburg 
bridge. 

In the windy twilight of a mid-March morning, they had 
come upon a pack of revenous dogs who were tearing at 
something which they had dragged from the snow, and 
from which the boys drove them away, only to find the 
shapeless remains of a tiny human body. 

Tiie features were mutilated beyond all hope of recogni- 
tion, the body was so mangled that it was impossible to 
guess what had been its size, but about it clung the tattered 
fragments of an embroidered “slip,” and two tiny, knit 
“ booties ” of pink and white wool. 

So it fell out that Taric’s daughter was laid to rest in 
Hilldale Cemetery, and a tiny white stone, engraved with 
the name of “Catheron,” erected above her grave, and 
when in the dripping April weather Lady Morford sailed 
for England in company with Martha and little Inez, she 
left America satisfied of the lost child’s death and glad 
that she had never mentioned its birth to the Earl of 
Glandore. 

Catheron Park had passed into other hands; the coal 
mines had been sold ; the railroad stock disposed of, and 
the proceeds placed in the Bank of England to the credit 
of the baby heiress; the nine days’ wonder went the way 
of all earthly things; the name and fame of “ Young King 
Coal ” died out and were forgotten, ajid all that remained 
to tell the story of that tragic strike was the tall white 
shaft in Hilldale Cemetery, which bore upon its .‘3’culptured 
base the simple record ; 

“Sacred to the Memory of 
KINGDON CATHERON 
and 
INEZ, 

His Wipe.” 


•O' 


THE KINHS DAUGHTERS. 


45 


PART SECOND.— AFTER TWENTY YEARS. 


CHAPTER X. 

A HOUSE-PARTY. 

“But, Inez, my darling, this is very unreasonable, and 
I cannot see what possiWe motive you can have for dis- 
liking her ladyship. It is not like you to be unjust, my 
dear, and to my way of thinking. Lady Blanche Hay is a 
very charming woman. 

“ And to mine, grandpa, she is the most odious creature 
in the universe,” responded Miss Catheron with a shrug of 
her shapely shoulders; then, as she perceived his lordship’s 
shocked look: “There!” she added, gayly, “don’t look so 
alarmingly black, grandpa; and please don’t ask me why 
I dislike her ladyship, for I assure you that I haven’t the 
least idea, only that she is thoroughly obnoxious to me in 
every way. I am sorry she was asked to be one of our 
‘house-party.’ For my part, I do not see what excuse 
there is for people to tolerate her in society. Possibly ” — 
with a laugh — “all this sounds like rank heresy to you, 
grandpa, for her ladyship is an almost universal favorite 
with the gentlemen ; but so far as I am concerned, she is a 
sort of social infliction that is very hard to bear; and I am 
sure that poor Lady Morford— before she died— regarded 
her in much the same light. To my way of thinking, 
grandpa, faithful old Martha Boggs — bless her heart! — 
would, if she were sent into society, be eminently more de- 
corous than Lord Hay’s pretty young widow!” 

The old earl made a soft, clicking sound with his tongue 
and teeth— a sound indicative of mild despair — and shook 
his white head. 

“ My dear, my dear! you really mustn’t say such shock- 
ing things simply because you dislike a person — and that, 
on your own showing, for no reasonable cause!” he said, 
reprovingly. “ If Lady Hay is a trifle lively, surely that’s 
no sin— no disgi’ace, Inez. Consider her youth, my dear. 
She is only three-and-twenty, even now, and has been a 
widow for almost four years. She was a mere child when 
Lord Hay married her and brought her to England. Since 
the date of her dehut in British society, she has certainly 
borne an unblemished reputation, Inez.” 

“Since the date of her y es, ” responded Miss Cath- 

eron, liRing her white shoulders in a most eloquent way. 
“But what was she before that? History is very dark 
upon that important point, grandpa, whilst Rumor— as 


46 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


Shakespeare drew her, ‘enters the scene, painted full of 
tongues.’ More than one person has been bad enough to 
suggest that the earlier days of her ladyship’s life wei’e 
spent behind the scenes — she is so well acquainted with 
stage craft, and proves such a valuable adjunct to private 
theatricals.” 

“ Still that is no disgrace, Inez. The time has long since 
passed when the stage was obliged to apologize for itself. 
Nowadays sensible people regard it in the light of an edu- 
cator, not a scourge, and many an actress has found her 
way into the peerage and graced it with her pre.sence. 
If Lady Hay has been upon the stage,, it is no reason that 
she should be regarded as a social outcast. It is not a dis- 
graceful profession, Inez.” 

‘‘I am very well aware of that fact,” returned Miss 
Catheron. ” What I cannot understand, however, is why 
her ladyship should so indignantly deny it. She flew into 
a perfect passion last winter when Miss Hatton remarked 
that she(her ladyship) knew how to arrange effects quite 
as well as any professional, and suggested that she become 
our ‘coach,’ instead of putting us to the trouble of engag- 
ing one from London. If Lady Hay has been upon the 
stage and yet denies it se vehemently, tlie fact, the infer- 
ence is obvious: It was either the stage of a very low 
theater, or her connection with it will not bear investiga- 
tion. You remember her late husband’s proclivities, 
grandpa. 

” His tastes ran to gay burlesques, ballerinas and ladies 
of the flying-trapeze persuasion. Who is to say that when 
he met and married his pretty American wife he did not 
find her dancing break-downs in some third-rate place of 
amusement? He was quite capable of such a piece of in- 
sanity, and her ladyship’s actions since he brought her to 
Europe— and then considerately consented to break his 
neck at the Burton fox-hunt — have to my mind given color 
to the theory. I am sorry that she was ever asked to 
Glandore Court, grandpapa; but since you have seen fit to 
invite her, I shall strive to do my duty, and remember 
that however obnoxious she is to me, she is still our guest, 
and as such, commands courtesy at my hands! My posi- 
tion may not be a very pleasant one, but I fully appreciate 
its exigencies, and will strive to do my best.” 

‘‘I am sure of that, Inez,” returned Lord Glandore, 
warmly. ‘‘You are a true chatelaine, my darling, and 
your guest is always a sacred responsibility.” 

Miss Catheron made no response. 

Turning quietly, she walked over to the window, looked 
pensively out upon the spreading acres of Glandore 
Court, and stood there long— quite silent— with the linger- 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 47 

ing sunlight of the summer evening aslant on her thought- 
ful face. 

A tall, beautiful blonde, brow-bound with burning gold; 
a slendex’, statuesque figure; a small, erect head, whose 
every movement seemed instinct with grace and eloquent 
of imperial dignity; a face at once sweetly-human and 
beautifully pure; eyes as blue aud soft as the summer 
skies; hands and arms like a goddess, and a neck like 
carven pearl; that was Inez Catheron, the daughter and 
heiress of the unfortunate man who was slain in the great 
Pittsburgh coal strike twenty years ago. 

With one million pounds standing to her credit in the 
Bank of England, with youth, health, beauty, and the 
world at her feet, she knew as little of life’s darker side as 
she had known on that stormy Februaiy night when the 
mother who bore her had dropped her cross and gone out 
into the mysteries of the Great Beyond. 

She had never been told the full horrors of that tragical 
tale— she knew only that her father had met his death by 
some violent means, that her mother had loved him too 
devotedly to survive the blow, and had died shortly after, 
and as the subject was such a painful one to Lord Glan- 
dore, she accepted this meager account and refrained from 
seeking the particulars. 

Not that the old earl could have given them in full, for 
the promise Lady Morford had made to herself at the time 
of the tragedy, she faithfully kept to the end of life. 

With the single exception of Martha Boggs, thei’e was 
not a soul at Glandoi-e Court who had ever heard of that 
other child ; and when, sixteen years after her arrival in 
England with little Inez, the Lady Clara Morford died, 
practically the secret of Kingdoii Catheron’s twin daugh- 
ters died with her. 

Her death was the first and only grief Inez Catheron had 
ever known ; but the sorrows of sixteen are soon forgotten, 
particularly in such a life as lay before her fi’om that 
hour. 

With the death of Lady Morford, Inez— as her mother 
before her— was placed under the chaperonage of Lord 
Glandore’s other sister, the Countess of Elsdale, and 
“ brought out ” at the age of eighteen. 

Her debut had been a pronounced success, and her 
beauty, together with her vast possessions, had conspired 
to make her the social star of the season. 

Within six months she had refused half a score of offers, 
and was generally en vied by all the marriageable misses 
of Vanity Fair. 

She passed through her first season “ heart-whole and 
fancy free;” but, in the beginning of her second, fate 


48 


THE KIN&S DAUGHTERS. 


threw into her path an impoverished young nobleman— 
Lord Alaric Keith — whose estate, known as Lancedene, 
was one of the most beautiful in Devonshire, but who 
had spent the greater part of his time looking after some 
mining interests in Wales, in the hope of not only cut- 
ting down expenses at “home,” but of raising sufficient 
money to clear off the mortgages upon it — and what moi*o 
fate did when it threw this impecunious young nobleman 
into Inez Catheron’s path, let the future pages of this re- 
veal. 

For many minutes the old earl sat in his favorite easy- 
chair and watched her with a smile of loving pride as 
she stood there in the window, looking pensively out on 
the spreading acres of Glandore Court, where the fast- 
declining sunlight lay in broad bands of ruddy gold on 
field and flood and trees; then, in a low, bantering way: 

“ ‘ Where art thou now, my beloved? 

List’ning I wait for thy call!’ ” 

he softly hummed. 

“ See anything of the carriage yet, Inez? You’ve been 
standing there like a maiden all forlorn for over ten min- 
utes now. Can’t you spare your old ‘ grand-dad ’ one sin- 
gle thought, or must your precious Alaric claim every one 
of them until dinner-time?” 

Miss Catheron started guiltily, and a sweet, swift color 
rushed over her beautiful face as she turned and laughed 
back at him. 

“Grandpa, you ought to be indicted as an incorrigible 
tease!” she said, with a pretty pout. “ Anybody might 
think, from hearing you talk, that I went to the window 
for the purpose of looking for the carriage, and that Lord 
Keith was the sole occupant of my thoughts day and 
night.” 

“Well, isn’t he, my dear?” — laughingly, 

“Of course he isn’t, because What are you laugh- 

ing at now?” 

“Nothing, my dear-nothing!” responded the old earl. 
“I was just thinking of Falstaff’s words: ‘Lord, Lord, 
how this world is given to lying!’ If you’ve had ten con- 
secutive thoughts without that precious young beggar 
claiming at least eight of them, for the past six months, I 
have only to say that all signs and indications are empty 
shams, and I’m a Dogberry!” 

“ Grandpa, will you stop teasing?” 

“Teasing, my dear?— teasing the future Lady Keith? 
Perish the dastardly thought! I only want to know when 
we’re to order in the carpenters and upholsterers to make 
the necessary changes here— for I’ll be shot before I’ll let 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


49 


the young rascal take you away from Glandore Court to 
live.” 

Miss Catheron gave her white shoulders a petulant 
shrug, and, walking over to the piano, ran her fingers over 
the keys. 

“ If you won't stop teasing me I shall drown your voice 
this way she said, laughingly, her eyes sparkling, and 
her face warm with blushes. “I think you are counting 
your chickens before they are hatched. Grandpa Glandore. 
How do you know that Lord Keith cares a straw about me, 
I should like to know ? I’m sure he has never hinted such 
a thing to me.” 

“ Possibly not— as yet !”— jokingly. ‘ ‘ But he icill ! You 
should have seen how the young jackanapes behaved when 
I invited him to make one of our house -party the day w'e 
left Belgravia. Positively, my dear. I thought he was go- 
ing to embrace me. He laughed and blushed like a girl, 
and wrung my hand as though it -were a pump handle. 
Signs and indications do not fail in that direction. I’ll be 
sworn. So we may confidently expect Keith to make a 
rapid development in the ‘ green-and-yellow sickness ’ un- 
der our Kentish skies — no place like Kent for that sort of 
thing, you know — and to ask for your heart and hand be- 
fore our house-party breaks up and the London season re- 
opens.” 

“And pray, how do you know that I will accept him if 
he does?” — archly. ‘‘Come, sir, you are so very wise, 
just answer me 'that question, if you please.” 

‘‘ Let f/iaf answer it for me,” returned Lord Glandore, 
pointing to a mirror. ‘‘ Look into that and see if the face 
it reflects looks like the face of a woman who means to say 
‘No’ to Alaric Keith. Pooh! don’t try to hoodwink me, 
young lady. Why, 3'ou’re over ears in love with the ras- 
cal, and I — well, upon my soul, I’m glad of it. Keith is 
one of the best fellows alive; and, even if he ha-sn’t five 
hundred pounds to his name, I’d sooner have him for my 
grandson than a member of the royal family, Thei*e! 
that’s enough, isn’t it? Let the rascal woo you and win 
you as fast as he likes. I give mj’’ consent beforehand.” 

Miss Catheron opened her lips to reply, but at that mo- 
ment the drapery was swept back from one of the arches, 
a faint breath of perfume floated through the room, and 
Lady Blanche Hay, gowned in a sumptuous ‘‘arrange- 
ment ” of silver and heliotrope silk, glided forward with a 
smile of ineffable sweetness. 


50 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


CHAPTER XL 

LADY BLANCHE HAY, 

A PEETTY, petite brunette, of three-and-twenty, with 
flashing hazel eyes, a lovely scarlet mouth, a complexion 
like old ivory, softened by the faintest gleams of rose, a 
figure that was as near perfection as nature, or Monsieur 
Worth, knew how to make it; a smile like a seraph’s, a 
voice like “vocal velvet,’’ and the subtile, indescribable 
charm of a subtilely cliarming woman. 

That was a crude description of her ladyship, as she 
came fluttering forward, unfurling her feather fan, and 
laughing a sweet, flute-like laugh that dimpled her dainty 
face, and filled the room with softest music. 

“Am I de tropV' she said, archly, pausing between 
Lord Glandore and his granddaughter, and softly turning 
upon the former the light of her dark, andalusian eyes. 
“ Have I interrupted that most sacred of things — a do- 
mestic confei-ence! If so, speak, oh, silent oracle, and I 
will discreetly vanish !” 

“What! and rob us of the sunshine ‘while it is yet 
day?’ ” returned the old earl, gallantly. “We have no 
conference— Inez and I— in which your" ladyship may not 
share, and be regarded as a most welcome addition.” 

“Well turned, mon ami !" smiled Lady Blanche, softly 
tapping his shoulder with her fan, and appropriating a 
seat near his. “Even that potent destro3’er of a good 
disposition— the gout — is powerless to put Lord Glandore’s 
gallantry to rout, I see 1 Miss Catheron, I envj" you the 
possession of such a perennially good-natured companion. 
But bless me! what a treasure of a maid you must have, 
to be sure. I flattered myself that I had made my toilet 
so quickly, I should be the first to appear in the drawing- 
room before dinner was announced, and 3"et I find j’oii 
dressed and here before me.” 

“I have been here since six o’clock, and it is now half 
past,” returned Inez, quietljr. “ Dinner will not be served 
for an hour yet — we have deferred it beyond the accus- 
tomed time in order that we may sit down a completed 
party to-night, Lady Blanche!” 

Lady Hay arched her delicate black brows, inquiringly, 
and, sinking back in the velvet embrace of her chair, lan- 
guidly swayed her feathered fan before her pretty hrune 
face. 

“Ah! then we are to be a completed party to-night?” 
she softly said, her face flushing a trifle, and a faint un- 
steadiness creeping into her voice, strive how she would 
to keep it sweet and level. “ We have been ten for three 


THE KING^S DAUGHTERS. 


51 


days, and now the charm of the odd number is to be 
added. I was not aware that Lord Keith meant to honor 
us so soon. May I ask when you heard from him?” 

“This afternoon,” returned Inez. “He telegraphed 
Lord Glandore that he would arrive upon the six o’clock 
train, and the carriage has gone over to Leith station to 
meet him. You are acquainted with Lord Keith, are you 
not. Lady Blanche? I know that you spent the last season 
in Pai'is— which, by the way, was his first appearance in 
society for several years— but I fancy I have heard you 
mention him. Have I not?” 

The pink glow deepened on Lady Blanche’s cheeks, then 
faded slowly, and, knowing that her face had become pale, 
she held her fan between it and the light, as though to 
shade her eyes. 

“Yes, I have had the pleasure of meeting his lordship,’’ 
she said, with affected nonchalance. “But it was the 
merest sort of an acquaintance, and I dare say that he has 
long since forgotten the incident of our meeting. It was 
at— let me see — Cam Ruth, or some other place on the 
Welsh coast that I met him, shortly after Lord Hay died, 
and while I was existing the six months of social seclusion 
which society demands of widowhood. I remember Lord 
Keith as a very handsome and very charming young man 
of five-and-twenty years, but I dare say that he has for- 
gotten me!” 

“ As if any man could forget Lady Blanche!” dropped 
in Lord Glandore, laughingly. “ It is rank heresy to men- 
tion such a thing.” 

But her ladyship made no response. 

She felt that the pallor on her face was steadily increas- 
ing, and was vainly cudgeling her brains for sonie excuse 
to quit the room, Avhen the welcoming sound of laughter 
upon the stairs directed the conversation into another 
channel; and presently the remainder of the house-party 
came trooping in, headed by the Countess of Elsdale, a 
stalely, white-haird grande da^ne, in black satin and 
diamonds. 

“ Inez! Where are jmu, Inez?” exclaimed, blithely. Miss 
Muriel Ruthven, a sparkling brunette, gowned in a dinner- 
dress of lemon silk, and wearing, of course, the conven- 
tional pearls of girlhood. 

“Ah, there you are!” she added, gayly, as she caught 
sight of Miss Catheron, and fluttered forward, all life and 
sparkle, as was her wont. “Such a delicious discovery! 
I really believe I shall have to double my maid’s wages 
for making it, Only think, dear! A party of gypsies has 
pitched its tents in the woods of Bracken Hollow. Real 
old-fashioned gypsies, who ask you to cross their palms 


52 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


with silver and get a peep into futurity and all that almost 
obsolete gammon which nobody finds nowadays, except it 
be on the stage, or in the columns of a ‘ penny dreadful!’ 
Marie says she saw them, and they are actually pictur- 
esquely dressed, and really cZeaw/ There! what do you 
think of that?” 

‘•Think!” interpolated Lord Glandore. “ Wliy, that 
we’d better see that the stables are locked and guarded 
while the rascals remain, and that you young ladies had 
better be chary of wandering about without male es- 
cort — particularly if you have any valuable jewelry upon 
your persons. We can’t prevent the rascals prowling 
about Glandore Court after dark, I dare say; but I’ll give 
orders to have them thrashed if they come here in the day- 
light.” 

” Vandal !” exclaimed Lady Grace Merton, another of the 
party. ‘‘Are you going to join forces with the countess 
and warn us not to cross the social chasm, even by way of 
a brief experiment? Miss Ruthven and I have been plan- 
ning to have the gentlemen ride over to Bracken Glen with 
a command for the sorceress of the tribe to present herself 
at the Court, so that Ave may have our fortunes told by a 
shriveled old crone. I suppose ” — laughingly — ‘‘there is 
a shriveled old crone in the party, isn’t there, Muriel? It 
wouldn’t be the genuine gypsy camp of stage and story 
without one. But Lady. Elsdale was the first to discourage 
us, and now you are added to the list. Lord Glandore. Inez, 
dear, apply your persuasive powers to the earl, and con- 
vince him what a fascinating experience it promises to 
be!” 

‘‘ I am afraid I could not do so with any degree of sin- 
cerity,” returned Miss Catheron, Avith a smile. ” I dislike 
gypsies, as a class, and the sight of one acts upon Lord 
Glandore like a red flag upon a raging bull.” 

‘‘Oh, then, that puts a quietus upon the affair,” re- 
sponded Miss Ruthven, gayly. ‘‘Of course Ave Avouldn’t 
dream of visiting f/iem, so there’s an end to the fortune- 
telling, and a shilling saved all around.” 

‘‘ Better put it in the poor box. Miss Ruthven, and guess 
at your future,” laughed Sir Charles En derby. ‘‘ I dare 
say you’ll come as near to it as Lady Merton’s shriveled 
old crone.” 

Then the conversation took a bantering turn; and leav- 
ing them in the midst of their raillery. Lady Blanche Hay 
slipped out upon the great marble terrace AA'hich skirted 
the mansion, and with tAvilight aslant upon her troubled 
face, began pacing up and down, and nervously Avhipping 
her left hand Avith the sticks of her closed fan. 

“ And so we are to meet again— Alaric Keith and 1 1” she 


THE KINO'S DAUGHTERS. 


53 


muttered, shutting her teeth hard and breathing through 
her nostrils in a dull, labored way. “I’m to look again 
into the eyes of the man who spurned me that night in 
Wales, as though he really knevv the history of my past, 
and what I was when Norris Hay found me dancing for ]ny 
living in a fourth-rate variety theater in New York. My 
Heaven! what a fool I was to throw myself at Alaric 
Keith’s head in that crazy manner! But I was so young, 
and I loved him with such passionate abandon. Lord 
Hay’s death had left me rich, I knew that Alaric was 
poor, knew that he needed money to clear off the mort- 
gages upon Lancedene, and— I think I must have gone mad 
for love of him ; but mad or sane, no matter — I threw my- 
self at his feet, I told him that I loved him, I asked him 
to marry me and let my fortune save Lancedene from the 
hammer, and then Ah, Heaven! shut out the mem- 

ory of what followed! Sometimes in the dead of the night 
I hear his contemptuous words, see the look of disgust on 
his face as he turned and left me, never again to look 
into my eyes nor let his hand touch mine from that mo- 
ment to this! 

“And so you love him, do you, my puritanical Inez?” 
she went on, in a voice of suppressed passion; “ you love 
him, and you look upon me as ‘ the most odious creature 
in the universe!’ I wonder what you would have said 
had you known how long I was behind the curtain of the 
arch, and how much of jmur conversation I overheard? 
I should tell you, if I dared, how little love there is lost 
between us, you white-skinned saint! I should like to tell 
you how easy it was to dislike you before, and how easy 
it is to hate you now. because you are dear to him ! And 
so I am to see him again, and see him a woman’s slave! 
How will he meet me, I wonder? Will he caiTy his scorn 
of me to this late day? or will he strike a truce and let 
the past be buried between our two selves? Let fate de- 
cide — for fate only can — but be his greeting what it will, 
let Alaric Keith beware of the woman he spurned that 
night in Wales!” 

The rumbling of carriage wheels put a period to her 
wrathful soliloquy, and glancing up, slie saw that the 
Glandore equipage had swung out of the drive into the 
paved courtyard; and facing about sharply as it came 
to a halt before the terrace steps, she found herself look- 
ing straight into the handsome, dark eyes of Alaric, Lord 
Keith. 


64 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


CHAPTER XIT. 

“coming events cast their shadows before.” 

It had not changed— that splendid face— since last she 
saw it, and the twilight, shining down upon it, revealed it 
to her clearly. The broad, high forehead; the slender, 
slightly aquiline nose; the firm, square chin; the clearly 
cut mouth, shaded by a dark, heavy, silk soft mustache; 
the clear, hazel eyes, the curling, brown hair, and the 
ruddy, healthful color in cheeks and lips — all were as they 
had been four years ago, and the knowledge of it cut her 
in spite of herself. 

His lordship had seen and recognized her the very in- 
stant the carriage halted— that she realized; but before 
she could fairly decide whether his look was one of in- 
difference, or one of displeasure, at meeting her again— 
and here — the great double doors of the Court were thrown 
open, and the whole merry party came trooping out to 
meet the welcome guest. 

His lordship sprung down from the carriage, his whole 
face lighting up as he beheld Inez; and acknowledging the 
noisy greeting of his friends, hurried to Miss Catheron’s 
side, and grasped in his own the two white hands she held 
out to him. 

“Welcome to Glandore Court, Loi-d Keith!” she said, 
lifting her clear, truthful eyes to his with a smile of sweet 
sincerity. “ You cannot tell how pleased we all were to 
receive your telegram— a week sooner than we expected.” 

“You are glad, then, to see me?” murmured his lord- 
ship, sinking his voice a trifle, and unconsciously pressing 
the little hands that lay so quietly in his. “It is very 
kind of you to say it. Miss Catheron. One so rarely meets 
with a heartfelt welcome when one puts in an appearance 
a week earlier than anticipated; but I trust — nay, I am 
sure — I may not doubt the sincerity of yours?” 

“ You may not, indeed,” she frankly answered. “JWe 
were all very glad to know tlrat you liad decided not to 
remain in London another week, during this warm 
weather, and doubly glad that you had decided to become 
one of us so soon. Sir Harry Charteris has been in ecsta- 
cies ever since he heard that you were ea route." 

“Has he, indeed?” responded Lord Keith, Avith a bluff 
laugh. “ Charteris, dear fellow, permit me to thank you 
for your disinterested sentiment. I was not aware that I 
had such an ai’dent admirer. Were jmu really languish- 
ing for your friend, or smarting to run me another string 
at billiards, and prove to the Avorld at large that there 
really was a man whom you could double discount three 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


55 


times running? Have at you, rascal ! I’ve been practic- 
ing lately for the express purpose of turning the tables on 
you!” 

“ Don’t 1” returned Sir Harry, laughingly. “Turn the 
count — that’s enough. The other’s too laborious for this 
hot weather, old man. Awfully glad to see you, though, 
Keith— blest if I’m not.” 

“Thanks,” responded his lordship, with a laugh. “ And 
now, if I may be permitted to excuse myself. I’ll do my 
best not to keep you waiting for dinner. I know I am 
wofully late. Lady Elsdale, for I have been ‘ pumping ’ 
the coachman, and posting myself in the rules and regu- 
lations of the Court beforehand. Ladies, will you pardon 
me?” 

He turned as he spoke and stepped toward the liveried 
servant, who stood waiting to conduct him to the suit of 
apartments he w’as to occupy during his stay at the Court, 
■when Miss Catheron caught sight of Lady Blanche Hay 
standing a trifle apart from the others, and recollecting 
what her ladyship had said regarding the possibility of his 
lordship having forgotten her, she stepped forward, and 
laid a soft, detaining hand upon his sleeve. 

“ Forgive me, but I fear I have been amiss in my duty. 
Lord Keith,” she gently said, “This is Lady Blanche 
Hay, and I fear that you are as forgetful as myself. Lady 
Blance, Lord Keith.” 

Her ladyship smiled sweetly, and held out one small 
ringed hand. 

“ I fear that I have made so little impression upon Lord 
Keith, he has long ceased to remember me,” she said 
quietly. ” Some incidents of our lives are so soon forgot- 
ten, vou know.” 

“I have not forgotten Lady Blanche Hay.” returned 
his lordship, with just the faintest suspicion of hauteur as 
he bent over her little white hand, and if her ladyship 
could have turned that hand into a deadly viper at that 
minute, she would have been only too well pleased. 

“So he holds it against me still, but is too much of a 
man to betray me,” she muttered to herself as his lordship 
excused himself and followed the servant indoors. “I 
shall have little chance to do him harm, and besides that, 
people will begin to conjecture if he holds aloof from me 
and treats me in that frosty manner to the end of my 
visit. I must mend that without delay, and do something 
to win his confidence and heal the breach between us be- 

foi-e I beg your pardon. Lady Elsdale. You were 

saying?” 

“I was suggesting that we return to the drawing-room 
to await Lord Keith’s reappearance,” responded the old 


56 


THE KIN&S DAUGHTERS. 


countess. “ Delightfully cool as it is out here, the dusk is 
fast deepening, and the air of our Kentish evenings is not 
conducive to good health. Shall we go in. ladies?” 

“By all means'” they responded in chorus; and follow- 
ing her lead, trooped back into the drawing-room and re- 
joined the old earl. 

The countess rang and ordered lights; the wondi-ous 
chandelier burst forth into a blaze of sparkling gloiy, the 
curtains were drawn, the piano opened, and between 
music and laughter and good-humored chatter, the time 
passed pleasantly until Lord Keith made his appearance, 
dressed for dinner. 

His lordship was one of the few men who really look at 
their best in that barbarous affair known as masculine 
“ full dress,” and, handsome as he had looked in his gray 
tweed traveling suit, there was something about him now 
that seemed to dwarf the others into insignificance. 

His six feet of square-shouldered, magnificently propor- 
tioned manhood was Avell adapted to the “swallow-tail” 
monstrosity, and he had never looked handsomer or more 
kingly to Inez Cathei'on and Lady Blanche Hay than he 
did at that moment when he stalked in and bore down on 
the old earl with his swinging, soldierly stride, his erect 
head, and his flashing dark eyes. 

“God bless the boy, what a grip he has !” exclaimed the 
old earl, as Lord Keith grasped his hand and wrung it 
warmly. “ Talk about the deterioration of the British ar- 
istocracy! why, your muscles are like steel, you rascal, 
and your fingers grip like a vice. Welcome, Keith— wel- 
come a thousand times. I am heartily glad you have 
come. No 1 you needn’ t put on any exti’a force, or I sha’n’t 
be able to use my hand in a fortnight. Respect my stiff 
joints, you young savage, if you do fight shy of my gouty 
foot, i’m seven-and-seventy, and you make me painfully 
aware of it!” 

His lordship laughed, and made some well-timed response ; 
then the conversation became general, and in the midst of 
it dinner was announced. 

The old earl struggled to his feet, conquered a pardon- 
able desire to get off them again as speedily as possible, 
gave his arm to Lady Blanche Hay, and, with as much 
dignity as is consistent with a mild attack of the gout, led 
the way to tlie dining-room. 

Lord Keith, naturally enough, found his way to Inez, 
lingered to let the others take precedence, and walked 
slowly out in the rear of the van. 

“May I say that you are looking superb to night?” he 
softly murmured, as they crossed the corridor. “It is a 
breach of etiquette, certainly; but one is so happy some- 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 57 

times, that the heart abuses all codes, and gives license to 
the lips.” 

” It doesn’t offend me,” she frankly answered, ” I am 
glad if I please you. Lord Keith,” 

“Please me? Ah I I wish I dared say how much ! May 
I hope to do so some time, Miss Catheron? or will it give 
offense?” , 

“I do not think you would try to offend me. Lord 
Keith,” she answered, with a smile, “and unless you do 
try, it will be difficult to make me angry.” 

His lordship caught his breath with a tin-ill of unspeak- 
able hope, and I am afraid that the heart and the lips 
would have done more serious abuse than formerly to the 
social codes had not the great double doors of the dining- 
room swung open suddenly and brought him to a sense of 
the eternal fitness of things, and the eternal unfitness of a 
lover’s rhapsody in the presence of soups and salads and a 
dozen pairs of mortal eyes. 

So the tale Avas left untold for a time, and, leading Miss 
Catheron to her place at the table, he took his seat beside 
her, and dinner became a reality, where it had previously 
been but a name. 

From first to last, however, Lady Blanche Hay kept a 
close watch upon Lord Keith. 

She had not heard what had passed between him and Miss 
Catheron; but, in that moment when the doors had swung 
open, and the light streamed forth upon them, she had had 
time to catch a glimpse of his attitude and the expression 
of his countenance, and she made a very clever guess at 
the truth. 

For a long time she discreetly held her peace, but, like a 
smoldering volcano, Avhich sometimes must burst forth, 
her spite, fed by the happiness of those she hated, found 
voice at last : 

“ How happy our dear girl looks to-night!” she said, in 
an audible “ aside,” to Lady Elsdale. “ One would think 
she had received a neAV baptism of beauty and an extra 
consignment of happiness. Surely there is not another 
such a face in all England to-night 1” 

An expression of annoyance flashed over Miss Catheron’s 
countenance as all eyes were raised to it, but before her 
ladyship could add to her confusion : 

“ Oh, that reminds me of an odd experience I encount- 
ered on my way to the Court,” interrupted Lord Keith. 
“I call it an ‘ experience ’ because at the time it seemed 
so remarkably real, but I dare say it was only the result 
of fancy after all. Charteris, you ‘ go in ’ for spiritualism 
and spook-ism, and fetches and all that sort of thing, so 


58 


THE KIN&S DAUGHTEHS. 


this affair will interest you. Probably you can explain 
the delusion, for I’m blessed if I can!” 

“Let’s have it, then, and give Charty a chance to strut 
his brief hour upon an explanatory stage!” broke in Sir 
Charles Enderby. ‘ ‘ He’s a howling success in propounding 
the theory of materializing shades of the defunct, so if 
you’ve run across anything in the spook line, Keith ” 

“I have!” interrupted his lordship, laughingly. “ Saw 
one this evening as we were riding up from Leith Station.” 

“ 'Imperial Caesar dead and turned to clay,’ etc.,” re- 
sponded Sir Charles. ‘ ‘ What did the apparition look like, 
Keith?” 

“ Like Miss Catheron! To be emphatic, Endy, it was so 
wonderfully like her, that I actiuilly thought for the mo- 
ment that it was really she,” returned Lord Keith, 
earnestly. “It happened just after the carriage entered 
up the road leading through the woods, in the vicinity of 
a place which the coachman told me was called Bracken 
Hollow. Twilight was fast deepening, and I was leaning 
back in the carriage smoking and indulging in a sort of 
reverie, when all of a sudden I fancied I heard a voice 
murmur faintly : ‘ Again, ah. Heaven, again !’ Naturally 
enough I turned in the direction of the sound, and there, 
framed in the bushes, I saw Miss Catheron’s face, as 
clearly as I ever saw anything in my life. I started as 
though to leap out and join her— for I assure you I really 
believed it was she — when as suddenly as it came ‘ whisk !’ 
it vanished, and there was nothing before me but leaves. 
There, Charteris, what do you tiiink of that, you 
prophet?” 

“Your cigar was too strong!” suggested Sir Harry. 

“You had been thinking about her!” laughed Lord 
Glandore. 

“Or you’d taken something ‘heady ’on your way up 
from London!” dropped in Lord George Ruth ven, whei-eat 
there was a general laugh; and the countess, perceiving 
that Sir Henry Charteris was about to launch forth into a 
spiritualistic dissertation, discreetly gave the signal for the 
ladies to retire, and fluttering back to the drawing-room, 
they left the gentlemen to carry on their discussion over 
the walnuts and the wine. 

Chagrined at having given the conversation a rollicking 
turn instead of an annoying one. Lady Blanche Hay ex- 
cused herself from joining the ladies for a time, dispatched 
a servant to secure her a wrap, and folding it over her 
head and shoulders, went out to cool off her wrath by a 
walk on the terrace. 

But walking on the terrace kept her within earshot of 
the merry party within; and as her ladyship was decid- 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


59 


edly “out of sort ” to-night, she gathered up her gleaming 
draperies, ran down the steps into the spacious grounds, 
and seeking the paved walk, which ran parallel with the 
driveway, pattering briskly along in the direction of the 
gates, giving free vent to her tongue and temper mean- 
while. 

Night had long since shut in, and a full moon rode high 
over the clustering tree-tops, some faint gleams of its 
silvery splendor striking down upon her ladyship's pretty, 
malicious face as she pattered onward, her silken gown 
gathered up to keep it from brushing the dewy foliage, 
and her dainty silken slippers emitting not the shadow of 
a sound. 

For fifteen minutes she kept walking onward, mutter- 
ing to herself, and wrathfully shaking her dark head until 
the diamonds in her hair and ears and on her soft, dusk 
throat blinked in the moonlight and surrounded her with 
a million broken rainbows. 

Still silence reigned above and about her; she was far 
out of sight and sound of the merry party at the house — 
far out of sight of any living thing, she would have said, 
had she stopped to think of it, but she didn't think, and 
the knowledge of her position never forced itself upon her 
until, without hint or Avarning, the brawny figure of a man, 
with a brace of pheasants in his hand, sprung out of the 
thicket, made a movement to bolt across the path and es- 
cape with his prize, and so came face to face with her. 

All in a moment the truth burst upon her. The man 
was a gypsy — a poacher — she Avas alone in the grounds, 
Avith all those blinking diamonds glinting in the moonlight, 
and he 

Almost as the thought crossed her mind he dropped the 
brace of birds, leaped forAvard, and clutched her by the 
Avrist. 

“ Mercy !’’ gulped her ladyship, feeling that her last hour 
had come, and terror rendering her voice almost inaudible. 
“Don’t kill me. Take my jcAA-^els, but only spare my 
life.” 

“I don’t Avant your life— I Avant your name!” Avheezed 
the man, excitedly. “Speak to me; speak, for God’s 
sake! Am I drunk or dreaming, or can likenesses be so 
wonderful? AnsAver me truly, or it Avill go hard Avith you. 
What is your name, Avoman? Speak!” 

“ I am called Lady Blanche Hay, and ” 

“D Avhat you’re called; I Avant the truth. Speak, 

or I’ll throttle you ! You are an American?” 

“Yes.” 

“And your real name is Maggie Talford!” 

Her ladyship recoiled, Avith a faint, wondering cry. 


60 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


“How do you know that?” she gasped. “Who are 
you, that you call me by a name I have not borne since 
childhood?” 

“Who am I?” responded the man, giving her a con- 
temptuous fling. “ Not o’ your kind now perhaps, and 
yet you owe your very life to me. I am called to-night 
Marco, the Gypsy King, but in the days of your child- 
hood, Lady Blanche Hay, I was known as Mark Talford - 
your father!” 


CHAPTER XHI. 

CHIEFLY EXPLANATORY. 

For some moments not a sound broke the stillness 
which had fallen after Mark Talford made that startling 
declaration and ceased speaking, and the tableau which 
ensued would have delighted the heart of a dramatist of 
the modern realistic school. 

Ghastly white to the very lips, my lady cowered aAvay 
in speechless terror at the sullen, forbidding face of the 
man before her— her slim, jeweled hands tightly shut, her 
eyes dilated and her very breathing stilled— then, as 
though the full import of the thing had at last burned it- 
self into her bewildered brain, she suddenly uttered one 
faint, gasping cry, and tottering backward, leaned heav- 
ily against a tree. 

“My father!”, she cried out in a dull, lifeless voice. 
“ You, Mark Talford? You, my father?” 

“Even I — vagabond and gypsy as I am!” he answered 
sullenly. “It is hardly such a pedigree as the Lady 
Blanche Hay would care to have the world know, but it 
is true, nevertheless. I should have known you had I 
met you in the wilds of a desert. I should have known 
you even though you had denied your identity and repu- 
diated your name; for your face is your mother’s face 
over again, and no power on earth could ever make me 
forget that.” 

“And she — my mother,” murmured Lady Blanche, 
huskily; “is she a gypsy, too? and — and is she here with 
you?” 

Marco shook his head slowly, and my lady heard, or 
fancied she heard, the faint, tremulous note of a subdued 
sigh. 

“ Would to Heaven that she were,” he answered husk- 
ily. “ Not for the sake of the child who forsook us, but 
for mine alone; I would give half my life to have her liv- 
ing still. I would have something to care for, then, some- 
thing to love, even though her poor, shattered mind could 
never be retrieved, or the memory of the tragedy which 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


61 


wrecked it be lifted from her life.. She is dead, poor creat- 
ure-dead and gone these ten years. She died in an Ameri- 
can madhouse; and, if there was any brightness in my life, 
any tenderness in my heart, both were buried in my Mag- 
gie’s grave. She was my Heaven, my life, my all, as I was 
hers, and yet his face darkening and hardening in the 
moonlight, and a note of scathing contempt ringing through 
his voice— “ and yet out of such love as ours was born such 
an ingrate as you !” 

My lady winced under this stinging rebuke, and a wave 
of color swept over her pretty, dusky face. 

“Spare me your reproaches,” she murmured, sullenly; 
“and remember, before you condemn me, what a dreary, 
loveless youth was mine, and how little you tried to bright- 
en it. To the age of eight years I was the inmate of a 
pooidiouse — beaten, half starved, abused in every way, 
and yet I had a father in the world. They told me at 
the poorhouse that y^ou were a worthless vagabond, a cut- 
throat — all that was vile and infamous, and I must learn 
to forget you. I had been an inmate of that dreadful 
place ever since I was three years of age. I knew of you 
nothing but your name, for you never came to see me; 
and in the face of that you tax me with being an ingrate 
to a man who gave me no proof that he wasted even one 
poor thought upon his only child.” 

“ I could do no better,” retorted Marco. “ Could I come 
to you when the laws of the land prevented me? I was no 
freer than 3*011, my lass, for the y’^ears 3*011 spent in that 
poorhouse, I passed behind the walls of a prison.” 

“They did not tell me that.” 

“ But it is true, nevertheless. I was crazed with a de- 
sire to reach you, and one night, in a fit of desperation, I 
made an effort to e.scape. I was discovered by one of the 
guards, and a terrible struggle ensued. I threw myself 
upon him and beat him into unconsciousness; but before I 
could benefit by that act, the noise of the struggle had 
brought other guards down upon me. I was surrounded, 
seized, whipped like a dog, and forced to pay the penalty 
of my rashness. Instead of freedom, my folly brought me 
an extension of my time, for I not alone lost those months 
which would have been deducted from my original sen- 
tence as a reward for good behavior, but I was convicted 
of a murderous assault upon a keeper, adjudged a crim- 
inal too dangerous to be set at large until subdued, and at 
the expiration of my first term of imprisonment, I found 
another awaiting me. 

“When both were served, and I was once more a free 
man, I flew to the place where the law had placed you, only 


62 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


to find that you had boon bound out— it took months to 
discover where. 

“ At length I did discover it, and, after tramping and 
begging for many weeks, made mj" way to the place, only 
to meet another failure. You had disappeared — run away 
some four months previous, they told me — and had gone, 
no one knew where. 

“Still I did not despair. After many and fruitless 
efforts, I found work at length, and every dollar I earned 
was divided between those I loved. Half of it went to the 
insane asylum, to insure better treatment for your mother, 
and the other half was spent in advertising for you. 

“For years I kept that practice up, always hoping to 
succeed in my efforts to find you, but always meeting with 
failure, until, one day, when my reckoning told me you 
were in your seventeenth year, I received a letter from 
your hand, asking who was the advertiser, and why he so 
diligently sought you. I sat down, delirious with joy, and 
wrote a reply. I told you that the advertiser was your 
father, and that I wished to reclaim my lost child. 

“ I shall never forget the answer which came back to 
me. In a few heartless words you gave me to understand 
that you had no desire to meet or know me— that it would 
be useless for me to attempt to discover your whereabouts, 
for, by the time I received your letter, you would have left 
the place from whence you had written it, and. as you 
were* known to no one by the name of Maggie Talford, 
your whereabouts could not possibly be traced. You were 
doing well enough as you were, y'ou said, and had no in- 
tention of supporting an idle, dissolute father, whose very 
name you had forever discarded. 

“ I read that letter, twisted it up, and threw it in the 
fire, and from that moment I ceased to advertise, and 
ceased to know one tender feeling for the child who had 
repudiated me! You were as dead to me as was the 
mother who bore you, and whose broken life had ended 
under the roof of a madhouse ! 

“ Some weeks later there came to my humble home a 
messenger from the tribe of English gypsies over which I 
now rule. He told me that for y^ears the Romany tribes 
had been seeking the whereabouts of my mother;* had at 
last heard of her marriage to a man named Talford, and 
through that medium had been enabled to trace me. 

“ I had always known that my mother was a gypsy, 
and had been called Hulda, the Weasel; but I now, for the 
first time, discovered what was her real rank. Death hav- 
ing cut off all other heirs, she had succeeded to the Romany 
throne. In a word, at the time she died she was queen 
over all the gypsy tribes, and I, as her direct descendant, 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


63 


now became king. I had nothing to bind me to America, 
for all ties wore severed when you dropped out of my 
life; and so, a fortnight later, I sailed away to fill my new 
position. 

“ With that act Mark Talford ceased to exist, and, from 
the wreck of his broken life, there arose Marco, the gypsy 
king— a wanderer and a vagabond in the eyes of the 
world, but still the father of my Lady Blanche Hay !” 

His voice — sometimes sullen, sometimes pathetic — 
ceased here with a slow, deriding laugh, and agaiii silence 
fell. 

Her ladyship looked at him for a moment— not certain 
of her ground, and not sure but what he might publish the 
relationship, and repay her heartlessness that Avay— then, 
with a soft, gliding movement, she came nearer, and 
dropped one small, sparkling hand upon his arm. 

“If they had told me all this— if I had even dreamed 
that your purpose was not to degrade me, I might have 
acted— ?coMZd have acted differently, /aZ/ie?*.'’’ she said, in 
her glib, sweet-sounding voice. “ But from the pictures 
they drew of you in the poor house, I was led to believe 
you a man who would heap every indignity upon me, so 
that it brought you the means of leading a life of idleness 
and drunken debauchery; and, oh! can you blame me 
that I dreaded being dragged down to such a life, when 
everything that was bright and beautiful was just opening 
out before me? 

“The woman to whom I was bound out by the people 
at the poorhouse beat and abused me so terribly that, in a 
moment of desperation, I I’an away, and after enduring 
many privations, at length reached New York, where, for 
a long and dreary time, I supported myself by selling 
papers, and slept, with others of the rabble, in alleys or 
wagons or under whatever shelter Heaven saw fit to offer 
me. 

“Time slipped on, and I grew from childhood to girl- 
hood in this miserable, dog-like existence. At length fort- 
une thz*ew me in the path of a man who managed a thea- 
ter on the Bowery. He saw me, thought me pretty, and 
— well, to make a long story short, he taught me a few 
steps of a break down, and brought me out upon the stage 
under the name of Blanche de Courcy . 

“I managed to make a hit, and it was all plain sailing 
after that. I studied hard to improve the fai’ce of an ed- 
ucation which the charity commissioners had given me in 
my childhood, rose rapidly in my profession, and began 
to command a good salary. 

“ One night, in the zenith of my fame, the late Lord 
Norris Hay came to the theater where I was playing, saw 


64 THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 

me, fell in love with me, and that ended my stage expe- 
rience. 

“He was a dissipated, broken-down wreck of a man, 
who had run every vice to its lair; society in his own 
land had almost tabooed him on account of his notoriou-s 
escapades, and he took revenge upon it by marrying me. 

I didn’t love him— I couldn’t love him, but I was a true 
and faithful wife to him while he lived, and as I had great 
hopes for my future, I induced him to engage private 
tutors for me, to give me at least the skim-milk of a po- 
lite education, and, to his surprise, instead of shocking 
society, when he at length brought me to England and in- 
troduced me, I managed to make an impression, and have 
maintained it ever since. 

“ My husband did not like that— he was not a man to 
like anything to please the people who were shocked by 
his behavior — and I think, had he not died soon after his 
return to England, he would have vented his spite upon 
those who had consented to receive me by telling them 
that they had been for months associating with a woman 
who danced break-downs at the theater in the vilest of 
American cities. By that means he would certainly have 
closed all doors against me, but fate was considerate 
enough to save me from exposure by encompassing his 
death. 

“He was killed at a fox-hunt, and I, as his widow and 
only existing relative, inherited a fortune of fifty thou- 
sand pounds. 

“lam, therefore, amply able, father, to assist you in 
any reasonable way, if you will only consent to do noth- 
ing by which I may lose the foothold I have obtained in 
society; and if you will let me rectify the miserable mis- 
take I made in regard to your character, I will do all in 
my power to make your life a pleasant one. If you pre- 
fer a home in London to sleeping ‘ in the hotel of the 
beautiful stars;’ if you desire to leave the gypsies and 
give up your roving,” vagabond life ” 

“I don’t desire it!” he cut, in sharply. “For twenty 
years I have nursed a grudge and dreamed of having re- 
venge for the sufferings I have endured, and beyond that 
I want nothing!” 

“Revenge!” murmured her ladyship, in a faint, pal- 
pitating voice. “Revenge upon whom? Oh, father, 
father! now that I have explained all, surely you will not 
hold malice toward meV 

“You? No!” he answered, huskily “I could not 
strike you, if I would, for your likeness to your mother 
would make you sacred, even though I could forget you 
are my child. I thought that the fire was out, but some 


THE KING^S DAUGHTERS. 


65 


faint sparks must have lingered; for, oh, child, child, 
they have rekindled to-night, and my heart leaps to 
warmth and life again. Maggie, my own, my darling! I 
love you, after all!” 

Her ladyship crept forward with a low, glad, cry, and 
taking her into his arms he bent and kissed her pretty, 
smiling face. 

My darling, I wouldn’t harm one hair of this dear 
head,” he gently said. ” My vengeance is for one in whose 
veins runs the blood which wrought my ruin, and your 
mother’s death. Think of it, child, and let it turn your 
heart to gall, your love for -her — if you have any — to the 
bitterness of death, and your friendship to relentless hate. 
Like you, she is a woman — and like you she has wealth ; 
but, hereafter, when you look into her eyes, remember 
that her father sent yours to prison; remember that he 
drove your mother to a madhouse, and mine to her death, 
and say to yourself night and day : ‘ I am a gypsy’s daugh- 
ter, and I will have revenge!’ ” 

“And this woman!” murmured Lady Blanche, ex- 
citedly. ” Do I know her? Have I met her, father? Who 
is she?” 

” Who is she?” he repeated, in a bleak, bitter voice, his 
face darkening as he whirled about and pointed in the di- 
rection of the distant mansion. “The mistress of that 
house, the owner of these acres, Inez Catheron, the Earl of 
Glandore’s granddaughter, and a born enemy to Mark 
Talford’s child !” 

“Inez Catheron!” exclaimed Lady Blanche, in a voice 
of mingled joy and surprise. “Merciful Heaven! do you 
mean to tell me that her father wronged you f What did 
he do? It will be a pleasure to have some deeper cause for 
hatred against her than the grudge I bear her now, and, if 
you speak truly, it will be a joy to work with you for Inez 
Catheron’s downfall. Oh, tell me what he did— tell me all 
—all!” 

Marco had just opened his lips to reply, but at that mo- 
ment the sound of a man’s bluff, breezy laugh floated 
through the stillness, and. hastily snatching up the brace 
of plieasants, the gypsy king sprung into the brushwood. 

“Come to-morrow to the gypsy encampment in 
Bracken Hollow!” he whispered, as he disappeared. “I 
will await you Horn morning to midnight— come when 
you can!” 

Then, soundless as a shadow, he waved bis hand and 
vanished, and my lady stood under the trees of the Oak 
Walk, silent, motionless, alone. 

The sound of chattering voices and pattering footsteps 
recalled her from the reverie into which she had fallen; 


66 


THE KIN&S DAUGHTERS. 


and presently, just as she had started to retrace her steps 
to the 1 louse, Sir Harry Charteris came into view with 
Miss Ruthven clinging to his arm. 

“Behold! the lost sheep is found!” he laughed, as he 
caught sight of her ladyship. “We are the scouting 
pai-ty sent to rescue you from all manner of imaginary 
evils, Lady Blanche. It is so long since you went— ac- 
cording to the ladies— to take a turii up and down the ter- 
race, and then ‘vanished,’ like Pepper’s Ghost, ‘into an 
awful state of nothingness and nowhere,’ that Miss Ruth- 
ven and I volunteered to look you up. Couldn’t tel), you 
know, but what you’d wandered off into the grounds and 
been ‘ busked ’ by one of those poor beggars who couldn’t 
get you any other way.” 

“No. I have been neither stolen nor lost!” returned her 
ladyship, with marked significance, meant for the ears of 
the man who was, she knew, crouching behind the brush- 
wood where he could hear and understand. “ On the con- 
trary. I have just found my way and been recovered!” 

“ Then let the recoverer do the honors!” laughed the 
young baronet, tendeiang her his disengaged arm. “ Per- 
mit me to sandwich myself and lead you back to the 
drawing-room. Lord Glandore is in a stare of loneliness 
bordering upon melancholia, and nothing will save his tot- 
tering reason but your ladyship’s instant appearance upon 
the scene.” 

“Lord Glandore does me too much honor,” laughed 
gayly Lady Blanche, as she accepted the proffered arm. 
“ I shall try to repay both him and Miss Catlieron for the 
interest they are pleased to take in me. I dislike being 
anybody’s debtor. Sir Henry, so I shall striv-’e very hard 
to leave Glandore Court with an even score when our 
pleasant house-party disbands!” 


CHAPTER XIV. 1 

A DAUGHTER OP ISHMAEL. 

“ Oh, Zillah. dearest, best beloved, wilt thou not give 
me hope? Wilt thou not try to love me? I give so much, 
my beautiful, a little will suffice in return. Try to love 
me, Zillah, only try T' 

“ I cannot, Jock, it isn’t in me. I would love thee if I 
could, my brother, but the stars have spoken, and it may 
not be!” 

It is a pretty scene, wanting in nothing to delight the 
eye of an artist, or to stir the slumbering senses of a poet. 

Overhead, the bright moon pouring down a sheet of 
luminous liquid splendor that glances along the surround- 
ing hills, silvers the dewy grass and bracken in the deep, 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


67 


sweet valley, and sparkles like a million diamonds on the 
brawling stream that breaks in a hundred tiny cascades 
befoi-e it finds its way out of Bracken Hollow to “join the 
brimming river ” at Leith. 

The moonlight falls full upon the two figures that stand 
close to the brawling stream, knee-deep in ferns and fiow- 
ers, and this is what it shows you: 

A brawny, lithe-limbed, copper-skinned fellow, of three- 
or four-and-twenty, with the unmistakable featiu’es and 
the jet-black hair and mustache of a gypsy ; his supple 
figure arrayed in a shabby suit of black corduroy, a pair 
of leather leggings buttoned up to his very thighs, a broad- 
brimmed hat shading his handsome, tawny face, and his 
long, cui-ling hair brushing the deep collar of coarse, 
homespun linen, which almost completely covers the 
slioulders of his black coat. 

Beside him stands a woman’s figure — a figure that might 
be a spirit, or a Grecian statue, so still it is, so strangely 
out of keeping it appears with the nature of its surround- 
ings. 

A long, loose robe of soft, lustrous white merino, zoned 
at the waist with a girdle of dull silver, falls about her in 
sweeping, statuesque folds of graceful drapery, her bare 
arms and shoulders gleam in the moonlight like polished 
ivory, her long, shimmering, golden hair falls to her very 
Avaist, and is fettered only by a broad Avhite band, fastened 
about her head and ornamented by one silver star set in 
the middle of her forehead ; her hands, loosely clasped be- 
fore her, are full of Avhite wood blossoms; her eyes are up- 
turned, and her Avhole attitude — the poise of her head, and 
contour of face and figure— is one of spirituelle beauty and 
pei-fect grace. 

She turns, and the moonlight, failing full upon her face, 
shoAvs you the living, breathing counterpart of Inez 
Oatheron, the heiress. 

“Go, Jock,” she softly says, in a voice so like Miss 
Catheron’s own that the resemblance is simply marvelous; 
“ thou knowest that to-night the moon is at its full, and 
my devotions alone ma}^ claim my thoughts. Speak to 
me not of earthly love, my brother, Avhen I may alone 
commune Avith Him Avho took my spirit out of one mortal 
frame to give it back to another.” 

“But the hour of devotion is long since past, Zillah,” 
interposed Jock, gently. “Thou mayest lay aside thy 
Avhite robes and be again the gypsy, not the spirit, and 
mortal men may avoo thee. Oh, beloved, I knoAv that 
thou art far above me, even as all things of the other 
world are above those of this, but still ” 


68 


THE KING^S DAUGHTERS. 


Zillah lifted her slim, white hand and checked his 
speech. 

“ I am not above jmii, Jock!” she said, gliding gracefully 
out of the gypsy mode of expression, and thereby render- 
ing yet more remarkable her likeness to the lady of Glan- 
dore Court. ” You are next in rank to Marco, and will be 
king of the Romanies when Heaven sees fit to call him, 
while I — Jock, sometimes I wonder if I really am what all 
our people call me, ‘ Zillah, the Spirit ’ — sometimes I won- 
der if it may not be possible that Taric and Starlight Bess 
were deceived when they fancied that Heaven performed 
such an astounding miracle as the one which has made me 
famous among all the tribes of our people, and sometimes 
—oh, Jock! do not despise me for the thought— but some- 
times when I compare myself with those about me, I 
doubt the truth of everything and wonder if I really am 
a gypsy, after all.” 

“ Heaven save thee, Zillah, but thou art surely mad!” 
exclaimed Jock, in a shocked voice. ‘‘Dost thou think 
that Stai’light Bess would have taken such oaths as she 
did if she did not believe it true that thou wert taken and 
restored even as she said?” 

‘‘ Believe it? Yes, she might have done that— I do not 
doubt it; but Avas it true, after all?” 

‘‘ As true as those stars are there,” he answered, pointing 
upAvard. ‘‘ To the very day Avhen she followed Taric to 
the grave, she swore to the truth of her statement, and 
more than that, Avhat Avouldst thou? Hast thou not been 
reared as never gypsy Avas reared before? Hast thou not 
been held as something sacred from the eyes of all save the 
people of thy race?” 

‘‘Ay ! too sacred,” she murmured, Avith a sigh. ‘‘The 
very honors Avhich have been bestOAved upon me have 
sometimes seemed a curse, and the devotion Avhich sur- 
rounds me, like the fetters of a slave. Other Avomen of 
the tribe may Avander Avhere they Avill, and look upon 

Avhom they please, Avhilst I Oh, Jock, I might as 

Avill be a prisoner— I might as Avell have been left to groAv 
up in ignorance— better, perhaps — than to be guarded 
from the sight of the Avorld after I have been accorded the 
knoAvledge Avhich fits me to mingle Avith it and enjoy its 
pleasures. 

‘‘ I dare not venture forth alone, save after dark; and 
even then I must be closely veiled from the sight of all 
save gypsies, just as I Avas compelled to go masked before 
those Avho were solicited to teach me the arts of reading 
and Avriting, to make me in education Avhat I am believed 
to be in reality— something above the people Avith Avhom 
my lot is cast. What is this but slavery of the bitterest 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 69 

t 5 'pe? Why, the lowest of our people has more happiness 
and more freedom than I.” 

“ But thou canst read, Ziilah. and thou hast the com- 
panionship of books which speak to thee, but are silent to 
us.” 

“Books!” she echoed, bitterly. “What, think you, do 
they do for me save make my position more unbearable? 
In books I I’ead of the world — of those blessed women who 
know what it is to live a life of excitement; to go among 
their kind, jeweled and gayly robed; to love where they 
will and when they will; while I am shut up here with un- 
congenial spirits as though I were a dryad, and content to 
dwell among trees. Oh, Jock ! sometimes my heart yearns 
for that other life until the emptiness and dreariness of 
this one almost drives me mad. Oh, to see the world — oh, 
to know that glorious life of which my books tell me ! I 
pant for 'it— I pine for it— and I tell you truly, Jock, if I 
thought I should live this way to the end, I Avould rather 
lie down here in the bracken and die this very night. 
There is nothing I would not do to lift myself above this 
life, and find a place in one where I might not only see 

again, but meet — and, oh! blessed thought— speak Avith 

Ah! Avhat have I said?” 

“The truth, I fear, in spite of thyself!” responded Jock, 
bitterly, as he looked into her face, now grown scarlet 
with confused blushes. “ It was the heart, and not the 
head, which prompted those words, Ziilah, and I know 
now Avhy thou art eager to disown thy people — to deny 
the miracle, and say thou wast not a gypsy. So, then. Old 
Zorah spoke the truth when she said that thou wert in 
love with a man not of our race, and who had never 
looked upon thy face, nor heard the music of thy voice. 

“It is three years since that accursed day in Wales, 
Avhen you looked, unseen thyself, upon Loi’d Alaric 
Keith's face, and begged so earnestly to have him enticed 
into our camp upon some lying pretext; and what Zorah 
said then, thou hast at last proved to be true ; Ziilah, thou 
lovest that man ; and for his accursed sake thou wouldst 
forswear thy race, and be no more a gypsy.” 

“ What if I do?” she ansAvered, drawing herself up and 
throAving back her head Avith a movement not unlike the 
trick of a defiant stag. “ I am mistress of my own heart, 
and I may love Avhere I Avill.” 

“Ay, and thou mavst hang thyself before that loA-^e is 
requited, retorted Jack, angrily. “Among thy people 
thou art a sacred hostage, but to him thou art the loAvest 
and the meanest, and he Avould choose death a hundred 
times sooner than mate Avith a gypsj'. Go to him, if thou 
dost hold my Avords lightly— he is at Glandore Court to- 


70 


THE KINHS DAUGHTERS. 


night — go to him, tell him what thou ai’t, and see how lit- 
tle higher than a worm the man thou lovest will hold thee. 
Men of his stamp choose no wives from the daughters of 
Ishmael ; but if thou Avouldst rather be his light o’ love 
than my bride ” 

Her hands flashed upward suddenly, and smote him upon 
the lips. 

“You coward!” she exclaimed indignantly. “You 
spoke the truth when you said I was far above you. I am 
so far above you that I am forever unattainable. I had 
rather be a pig, and herd with swine, than mate with such 
as you. Now go! and understand that, if I could not love 
you before, I would not, now that I have ceased to respect 
you!” 

Muttering and growling vvith sullen fury, Jock scowled 
at her, and slouching away from her side, left her stand- 
ing in the bracken, pale, silent, alone. 

For a moment after he had made his way into the shadow 
of the trees and disappeai-ed, Zillah stood there, her eyes 
full of tears, and her white lips quivering as she looked up 
at the moonlighted sky, then, with a sudden cry of pain, 
she threw herself down in the bracken and covered her 
face with her small white hands. 

“ It is true — it is true after all!” she cried out, brokenly. 
“ Men of his stamp despise gypsies, and if he knew me he 
would shrink from me in scorn and contempt. I am a 
vagabond — a Romany— a houseless, hopeless wretch, who 
must herd with her kind or go to perdition if she give her 
love to one of his. And yet I love him— God pity me, I 
have loved him from the moment I first saw his face, as I 
shall love him, and him only, to the day of my death. Oh, 
if I could but enter into the world where he is— if I could 
cease to be a gypsy— Heaven alone knows what sweet pos- 
sibilities might yet lie in my future. Oh, Alaric! Alaric! 
if I thought I might be near you, to win your smiles and 
gain your love, I would endure torture— chains— the rack 
itself, to win that blessed privilege. But I may not dream 
of it. To steal near to you sometimes, and under cover of 
the darkness look on your dear face, is all the happiness I 
may hope to realize in this life. Y^our world is not for me, 
my beloved ; your smiles and kisses are not for Zillah, the 
gypsy— they are for some more blessed woman, whom I 
shall hate with the bitterness of death from the moment I 
hear that your troth is plighted. God help me! God pity 
me! I am only a gypsy— a daughter of Ishmael— an out- 
cast and a wanderer, despised by all men, save the rabble 
I must herd with to the end of my miserable days!” 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


n 


CHAPTER XV. 

“ AS IN A LOOKING-GLASS.” 

It is half- past nine by all the clocks and watches in 
Glandore Court, and the pleasant evening has reached its 
pleasantest point. 

In the alcove of the drawing-room the old earl and Lord 
George Ruthven are deep in the discussion of politics, 
with the Countess of Elsdale lingering near (and just in- 
terested enough in the conversation to give others who are 
not an opportunity for ” those soft passages which run be- 
tween the bars and make the music doubly sweet ”) ; on a 
tete-a-tete, far removed from all the rest. Lady Blanche 
Hay is carrying on a desperate flirtation with Sir Charles 
Enderby ; on a fauteuil at the other end of the room. Lady 
Grace Merton and Viscount Warleigh are indulging in the 
same pleasant occupation, only in a milder and more de- 
corous phase; at the piano. Miss Muriel Ruthven is softly 
playing some tender, murmuring melody, and in a sub- 
dued tone, chatting meanwhile with Sir Harry Charteris, 
who bends over her Avith his hands on the music, Avhich 
he has not turned for the past ten minutes, although he is 
there for that especial purpose, and in the curtained re- 
cess of the Avindow-seat, Miss Catheron and Lord Keith 
“ Sport not with love, but gladly wrap 
His rosy fetters round their loyal hearts 1” 

But even in the midst of her desperate flirtation. Lady 
Blanche Hay flnds time to steal an occasional glance at 
the face of her successful rival, and the sight of its utter 
happiness stings her even Avhile she listens, laughingly, to 
the tender nothings of her handsome vis-a-vis. 

“ Love not! love not! oh, warning vainly said ” 
tinkles the murmuring music under Miss Ruthven’s listless 
Angers, and recognizing its soft, seductive measures, Lord 
Keith looks up and softly laughs. 

“Miss Ruthven is a false prophetess, I fear,” he said 
lightly. “She doesn’t live up to the lesson she pro- 
pounds, That is the fifth time she has repeated that 
measure, and neither she nor Charteris seem to realize 
that it is about time to turn the page. What a charming 
night it is. Miss Catheron. The moonlight is like liquid 
pearl, and the air as soft and SAveet as balm. It is close 
in here; may Ave not go for a turn up and down the ter- 
race? We seem to be an especial necessity to no one here. 
May Ave not go and enjoy the beauties of the night by our- 
selves?” 

For all answer she arose quietly and stole out of the 
room Avith him, catching up a soft silken Avrap as they 


72 


THE KIN&S DAUGHTERS. 


passed through the lialhvay, and winding it about her 
head and shoulders; then slipping her hand through his 
proffered arm, she walked out with him into the clear 
light of the moon. 

At the end of the terrace where a flowering guelder 
rose wreathed the white pillars, and stretching forth its 
leafy screen, shadowed the terrace with a canopy of foli- 
age and flowers. Lord Keith paused, and drawing from 
his arm the slim, white hand that rested so lightly there, 
took it in his own, and turning, looked into her drooping 
face. 

“ Miss Catheron — Inez!” he said, very tenderly. “You 
told me to-night that I could not offend you if 1 told you 
all my thoughts — you told me you would listen if I wished 
to speak, and, oh, if I am mad enough to falsely think that 
you know already what tho.se thoughts are, and knowing, 
will yet listen, be merciful and check my madness now, 
before I wound you with my words!” 

Miss Catheron lifted her clear, blue eyes, and a smile of 
happiness lighted her flushing face. 

“ You are not mad, and I tell you again that you give 
me no offense. Lord Keith,” she frankly said; “why then 
should I check you?” 

“It is true, tlien?”— -rapturously. “You know what I 
would say? You have already guessed it, Inez, and yet 
you bid me speak? Oh, my love, my life, my own! surely 
this must be a dream!” 

“ If it be, then let us dream it out, for I shall not wish to 
be awakened!” she naively answered, and almost before 
the words were finished she found her head drawn down 
upon his shoulder, his arms wrapped about her, and his 
kisses falling sweet and fast on eyes and lips and hair. 

“You love me then, Inez?” he cried out, with a laugh 
of utter happiness. “Sweet, I didn’t dream it, then? 
You love me and will be my wife? Say it, Inez— say it, 
dear ! I cannot believe it until I hear it from your own 
sweet lips.” 

“ I love you, Alaric, and I will be your wife!” she softly 
answered, and there again his kisses stopped her mouth, 
and for a long, sweet time they talked, in murmured 
voices, all that foolishly happy talk which is of iitterest to 
lovers alone in the first dawning of their life’s great joy. 

For many minutes they stood there, deaf and blind to 
all the world but their own selves; but presently the 
sound of general laughter floating out from the open 
windows of the drawing-room acquainted them with the 
fact that the “ party element ” had been abolished, and 
the conversation was now general, and, with a smile and 
a start, Miss Catheron turned toward the door. 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


73 


“ We must go in now. or I shall be missed, Alaric,” she 
said. “ Even in one's happiness one must not forget the 
duty owing to one’s guests!’’ 

“ If I go in. I shall blazon my happine.ss to every soul 
in the room,” he answered, with a laugh, “and I wish 
to keep it to myself until I have spoken with the earl. I 
cannot realize yet that Heaven has been so very kind to 
me, Inez. Let me stroll through the grounds and smoke 
awhile before I show myself in there.” 

For all answer she Avaved her white hand and fluttered 
out of sight, leaving him standing there with only her 
soft white wrap, lying just where it fell when he took her 
in his arms, to prove to him that all his happiness was 
not the substance of a dream. 

He stooped and took it up, pressed it to his lips; and 
then, as though it were too sacred to be roughly handled, 
gently laid it across the terrace rail. 

“Some lives are trebly blest, and mine is one!” he mur- 
mured, with a thrill of happiness. ” She loves me — Inez 
loves me — all is .said in that!” 

Then, pausing a moment to select a cigar from his case 
and light it, he walked slowly down the steps, struck into 
the footpath, and strolled off into the darkness, leaving a 
trail of smoke behind him. 

For one moment silence reigned over the spot where 
that brief, sweet love-scene had been enacted ; then, with 
scarcely a sound to disturb the stillness of the night, the 
matted rose-boughs parted, and a slim figure glided for- 
ward, and the moonlight, slanting down, touched the awed 
face of Zillah, the gypsy. 

” Was it real, or have the people of my race conjured up 
a vision to torture and surprise me?” she cried out, in a 
faint, wavering voice. “There is no mirror here, and yet 
I have looked upon my own reflection— looked and seen it 
gathered into his arms, pre.ssed with his kis.ses, blessed 
with the acknowledgment of his love, while I, the reality, 
crouched in the darkness, hopingonly to look unseen upon 
his dear face. 

“ What does it mean? W^ho has wrought this m5'stery ? 
Who has conjured up this vision to ” 

She stopped abruptly, and the words ended Avith a sharp 
and sudden gasp. 

Her eyes had fallen upon the white wrap l.ying over the 
terrace rail. 

She put forth her hand suddenly, totiched it, felt that it 
Avas real, and then, with a faint, desolate cry, snatched it 
down and trampled it beneath her feet. 

“ It was not a A’ision— it was real — real !” she cried out, m 
a shuddering voice. “ The woman he loves — the woman 


74 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


who lay upon his bosom, who looked at him with my eyes, 
and spoke to him with my voice, was not an image but a 
reality! His love is not for me; but some one who is my 
exact counterpart, has won what I may never hope to 
own, and I hate her! hate her! hate her!” 

The sound of Lady Blanche’s bubbling laughter, rippling 
over the stillness, and drawing nearer to the open door of 
the house, broke in upon the gypsy’s passionate outburst, 
and, realizing that some one was coming out upon the ter- 
race-knowing that the presence of a gypsy, in the 
grounds of Glandore Court, would be the signal for her 
arrest as a vagrant and a thief— Zillah snatched up the 
white wrap, threw it over her head and shoulders, and, 
conscious of nothing save a desire to escape, plunged into 
the shadow of the tz-ees, darted fleetly in the direction of 
the gates, and so ran headlong into the arms of Alaric 
Keith. 

“ My darling, you have managed to get away from your 
guests and have come to make me happy again?” he said, 
with a happy laugh, as, startled by this unexpected en- 
countei*, Zillah fell back, with a faint, low cry, and some 
glancing moonbeams, sifting through the trees, touched 
her beautiful upi-aised face. 

‘‘Sweet, it was kind of you to do it, for I think I am 
losing my senses with joy! Oh, love! oh, life! what have 
I done, I wondei*, that I should be blessed like this?” 

Then his stz’ong arms, wiizding themselves about her, 
drew her closer to his heart, his kisses fell like rain upon 
her flushing face, and, holding her thus, he szniled down 
into her upraised eyes, and softly touched his lips to hers 
in one long, lingering kiss. 


CHAPTER XVI. 

IN THE OAK WALK. 

It is difficult to describe the state of Zillah’s feelings as 
she thus found herself clasped in the arms of the man 
whom she had so long and hopelessly loved, and— know- 
ing the while that his cai-esses were meant for anothei’— 
felt his heart beat against her own, his kisses fall warm 
and fast upon her uptui-ned face, and heai'd, as in a dream, 
his passionate words of endearment. 

Her fii'st impulse was truly a womanly one— to bi-eak 
away from his lordship and flee in the darkness, but his 
clinging arms held her tightly, his kisses— rained down 
upon her face with all the passionate rapture of a pas- 
sionately rapturous love— seemed to render her powerless, 
seemed to tear away from her all sense of the duty she 
owed to him and to herself ; she only realized that she 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


75 


loved him; that she was lying upon his bosom, feeling his 
caresses, and hearing, in reality, what she had so often 
heard in her dreams — his words of reverent love addressed 
to her — and in the weakness of her heart and the strength 
of her passion, she held her peace and took the goods the 
gods provided, caring not hoio they came so that they were 
hers at last. 

“Sweet, how you tremble!” exclaimed, tenderly. Lord 
Keith, as, with a shudder, she closed her eyes and aban- 
doned herself to fate. “Your face, too, is very pale. I 
fear you have been unduly excited, or ’’—this with sudden 
apprehension — “perhaps I have startled you by my ve- 
hemence. The role of Romeo is so new to me, dear, that, 
granted your love, I am like a child possesssed of a new 
toy— so rudely happy that I injure what I most prize! 
Have I shocked you, "dear, by my boisterous conduct?” 

“No!” she answei’ed, faintly, her eyes opening and look- 
ing up into his, only to close again, as her whole face be- 
came bright and warm Avith rosy blushes. “No, it is not 
that, it is only that I am happy and — your love seems a 
dream too beautiful to be true!” 

“ But it is true, Inez— you know that it is, do you not, 
dear? Open your eyes and look at me. You make me 
think of those quaintly-sweet words of Victor Hugo’s, as 
I see you now: ‘A face like that Avithout eyes, is like a 
palace Avithout Avindows.’ Look at me, siA^eet, and tell me 
again that you love me. I can scarcely credit even now, 
that I am so truly blest.” 

Her eyes opened again as he spoke; the rosy color came 
and Avent in fitful Avaves across her radiant face; she suf- 
fered him to lift hei’ arms and fold them about his neck, 
then in a voice of utter happiness: 

“I love you, Alaric!” she softly said. “I have always 
loved you," but without hope of such a joy as this.” 

He laughed a soft, low laugh, and gently patted her 
flushing cheek. 

“ Could the rich Miss Catheron be Avithout hope of win- 
ning the love of any man Avhom she chose to honor Avith 
her favor?” he said, jokingly. “ If report speaks truly, 
you could have Avorn the coronet of a royal duchess, my 
darling; Avhile I liave nothing to offer you but a mortgaged 
estate, an honest name and a heart that was all your own 
from the first moment I looked into your dear eyes. You 
are my AAmrld, dear, and I would have fought to Avin you 
if you Avere as poor as a beggar and I as rich as a king! 
You believe that, do you not, Inez?” 

“I believe that — yes, Alaric,” ansAA^ered Zillah, nerv- 
ously. “ But let us go further away from the house, dear; 
I— I am afraid that some one may intrude upon us here, 


76 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


and I would rather keep our secret to ourselves for a time. 
I cannot remain Avith you long, Alaric; they Avill miss me, 
you know!” 

” How clever of you to escape them, and how kind to 
come to mo!” he tenderly said, as he wound his arm 
about her waist and led her gently doAvn the quiet, tree- 
shaded avenue. ” If we are to keep our engagement very 
long a secret from our friends, you must grant me many 
of these stolen interviews, sweet, or I shall gi*ow as reck- 
less as a hungry bear, and betray everything by pouncing 
upon you and embracing you before all the guests. See 
that pretty statue of Diana gleaming through the trees. 
We will make that our trysting-place in future, love. You 
can steal aAvay and meet me here sometimes, can you not, 
dear?” 

“ I Avill try,” she answered. ‘‘When you wish to speak 
with me alone, steal out of the house without saying a 
word. If I miss you from the room I shall know where 
you have gone, and, as often as it is possible, come to 
meet you here. You must be content with that, Alaric, 
and do not be angry if I sometimes fail to keep the tr^-st.” 

“Angry?” he repeated with a smile. “My darling, 
you have given me so much already that 1 must always 
be grateful — always be satisfied with the knowledge tliat 
you love me, come what may!” 

She made him no reply. With her face aglow with color, 
and her eyes agleam with happiness, she strayed on 
through the darkness and stillness of the Oak Walk— list- 
ening to his tender words, and “giving vow for vow;” 
until the pealing of the stable clock chiming the half-hour 
after ten, awakened her from the trance into which she 
had fallen, and brouglit her to the realization of the time. 

“Oh, I must go back now!” she exclaimed, in a startled 
voice. “I did not dream it Avas so late, Alaric; and they 
Avill be asking aAvkward questions at the house if I remain 
away loiiger. Don’t come back with me, or our friends 
will suspect the truth, and indeed I do not Avish it known 
to ev’erybody yet.” 

“ And, least of all. to Lady Blanche Hay, I fancy,” he 
supplemented. “ I imagine, from your manner this even- 
ing, that you are not particularly fond of her ladyship. 
Am I right in that suspicion, Inez?” 

“ Yes,” responded Zillah, taking her cue from his words. 
“I Avish to guard our secret from Lady Blanche Hay^ 
Alaric. I do not like her, dear. I fancy she is deceitful' 
and I should not care to have her see us return in com- 
pany. Remain here until I have had time to reach the 
house and rejoin our friends.” 

‘‘As the queen wills,” he softly said, as he took her in 


THE KING’S DAUGHTERS. 


77 


his arrr.s and kissed her passionately^ “Good-night, my 
darling, I shall meet you again before retiring, of course, 
but our ‘ lovers’ good-night ’ is now. Kiss me, and tell me 
once again that you love me, Inez, that I may dream of it 
until morning.” 

She flung her arms about him with a passionate vehe- 
mence, and a strange, intense cry that thrilled the very 
fibers of his being. 

“I love you — I love you— I love you!” she exclaimed, 
her eyes filling, and her voice husky with muffled sobs. 
“Oh, Alai'ic, my darling, it Avill kill me if I ever have to 
give you up after this, and if another comes between 
us ” 

“No other can, sweet — no other shall! Why, my dar- 
ling, your eyes are full of tears. Do you then love me so 
much?” 

“ I love you better than my life— better than the salva- 
tion of my* soul!” she answered, with utter abandon. “ I 
love you so well that, come wliat may, I can never give 
you up after this night’s happiness, Alaric. Think of me 
— dream of me — love vie. my darling, for death wei*e 
sweeter than to lose you now !” 

So speaking, she broke out of his arms with a strange, 
hysterical cry, fluttered into the darkness, and was gone 
before he realized it. 

For several minutes Lord Keith remained standing just 
where she had left him, his eyes looking into the darkness 
as though he struggled to catch yet another glimpse of her 
now vanished figure, his whole face radiant with happi- 
ness, then: 

“ She loves me— my darling loves me, and I am the most 
blessed of men,” he said, with a thrill of exquisite tender- 
ness. “ Oh, my queen, if you only knew how little you 
have to dread a rival; if I could only tell you how happy 
you have made me to-night, you would realize in very 
truth that perfect love which casteth out all fear. Sweet, 
if a life’s devotion can prove to you how dear you are to 
me, the future will be Avithout a cloud !” 

As he ceased speaking he selected a fresh cigar from his 
case, struck a match, and proceeded to light it. 

But as the brief aromatic flame for a second— ere it 
changed to a gleaming ember— irradiated the darkness 
about him, his eyes fell upon something that lay glittering 
beneath the trees, and stooping, he picked it up. 

It was the small, silver star which Zillah had worn upon 
her forehead at her “devotions” to-night, and which, 
somehow, had broken its fastening and fallen to the earth 
during that impassioned parting with his lordship. 

“What a quaint jewel!” muttered Lord Keith, turning 


78 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


it over in his palm, and scrutinizing it by the light of the 
glowing vesuvian. “There is an inscription upon it. too, 
but I cannot make it out, for it is in a language of which I 
am ignorant. It is neither Greek nor Latin, nor yet 
French, German, Italian, or even Sanskrit. As near as I 
can make it out, it reads ‘ sulla opollis glut ’ ” (spirit-born, 
or, literally, born of the blood of angels), “and, by the 
final word, one might be tempted to believe it something 
of the Romany jargon, that mixture made up of the slang 
of a dozen languages, for ‘ glut ’ is surely Bohemian, and 
means ‘blood.’ But what in the name of common sense is 
the meaning of 'sulla opollis,' and to what tongue or 
tongues do those two words belong? The jewel is of solid 
silver, but is of little value, yet Inez must have dropped 
it, for I found it lying upon one of my own footprints, 
Avhich clearly proves that it fell after we two strolled here 
together, and, as it isn’t mine, it certainly must be hers. 
Perhaps she values it as a keepsake — a relic or a talisman 
presented to her by some of her friends, and I will restore 
it to her at once!” 


CHAPTER XVII. 

“ OH, SERPENT HEART, HID WITH A FLOW’RING FACE!” 

Having arrived at this conclusion. Lord Keith did what 
was only natural — slipped the little silver star into his 
pocket, struck a fresh match, lighted his cigar, and strolled 
leisurely back in the direction of the house — indulging, 
meanwhile, in more sweet imaginings than I could write 
or you would care to I’ead. 

The balm and sweetness of the Kentish night floated 
about him and filled his senses with the odor of flowers 
and the tinkle of falling waters. He dawdled along leis- 
urely until he reached the terminus of the Oak Walk and 
the Court itself stood before him. 

The murmuring sound of gay voices floating out through 
the open windows of the drawing-room apprised him of tlie 
fact that some merry subject was in progress of discussion, 
and flinging away his cigar, he crossed the paved court- 
yard, ran up the steps of the mansion, and had just turned 
toward the doorway with the intention of rejoining the 
party in the drawing room, when he caught sight of some- 
thing white lying in a ball upon the pavement of the ter- 
race. 

He walked toward it, saw that it was Miss Catheron’s 
white shawl, and stooping, picked it up. 

“She must have encountered some one as she regained 
the terrace, and flung this here to avoid the suspicion that 
she had been wandering through the grounds!” he mused. 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


79 


“Precious little trickster! I’ll not betray her, bless her 
heart” — as he kissed the white shawl which had known 
the blessing of his darling’s touch—” I’ll toss it in the 
cloakroom as I pass, and then ” 

The soit frou-frou of a woman's robe, as it brushed the 
stone pavement of the terrace, broke in upon his murmured 
words; a breath of perfume floated to him, faint, delicate, 
sweet with the breath of woodland violets; and turning, 
as a radiant vision glided out of the darkness and stood be- 
fore him, he found himself looking into the brilliant hazel 
eyes of Lady Blanche Hay. 

He started and drew himself up with a frigid sort of hau- 
teur, and made her a dignified bow. 

“Is your ladyship also bent upon viewing the beauties of 
Glandox-e Court by moonlight?” he said, frostily, feeling 
that the occasion demanded that he should say something, 
and, for want of a better subject, falling back upon that 
threadbare one, the weather. “It is a charming night, 
and will amply repay your interest. ’ ’ 

“I am not interested in it at all,” ventured Lady 
Blanche, her voice trembling faintly, and her white, 
ringed hands moving nervously up and down the pearl 
sticks of her closed fan. 

“It is neither the moonlight nor the beauties of Glan- 
dore Court which has tempted me forth to night. Lord 
Keith. I had but one purpose when I escaped from the 
di-awing-room a moment since, and that purpose was to 
see— to speak with you.” 

His lordship made a stiff bow, the veiw essence of polite 
I’epulsion. 

“Lady Hay does me too much honor,” he said frostily. 
“ I fear that I am neither a worthy object for so much con- 
sideration, nor yet an appreciative one.” 

He made a movement as though to step by hei-. but my 
lady put forth one small, gemmed hand, and lifted an ap- 
pealing look to his pale, contemptuous face. 

“ At the least, my lord, j’-ou are a gentleman !” she said, 
with some faint shadow of reproach in her glib, sweet- 
sounding voice, “ and, as a gentleman, you will accord me 
the right due a woman when .she seeks to vindicate her- 
self, by correcting the errors of her past. Oh. Lord Keith. 
I onl7 ask your forbearance for a moment, and if I am 
forced to recall to your memory that miserable night at 
Cam Ruth ” 

“Is it necessary?” he broke in, coldly. “It seems to 
me that an unpleasant past were better left buried instead 
of dragging it out of its grave where it was fast being for- 
gotten. It is like raking over the ashes of a burnt-out fire 
—even if you find a true ember, it will scarcely repay the 


80 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


raising of so much dust, since it must die anew the mo- 
ment it is exposed!” 

“I do not wish to find an ember, and I would not re- 
kindle the fire even if I could!” I'esponded her ladyship, 
Avith a look suggestive of saints and seraphs and wilted 
lilies. “Oh, Lord Keith! will you not give me credit for 
one act of womanliness — one spark of shame?” 

“Need Ave discuss the subject?” he answered, coldly. 
“It cannot be productive of any pleasure to your ladyship, 
and I assure you, it is thoroughly distasteful to me. As I 
have already remarked, the past is better if buried. Lady 
Blanche— especially such a past as ours !” 

Iler ladyship fell back a step, and covered her pretty, 
traitorous face with her small, gemmed hands. 

“Hate me — despise me — cover me Avith humiliation. I 
deserve it!” she cried out, in a dull, palpitating A’oice. “I 
held you nobler than the rest of the Avorld, but you have 
imbibed the popular creed, and believe the follies of the 
girl must be held forever as condemnation against the 
posssible integrity of the Avoman. Were our places re- 
A’ersed, I Avould have done Avhat you did that night in 
Cam Ruth, Lord Keith — for surely no honorable man 
could have acted otherwise — but I Avould not have s])urned 
your penitence had you come as I come now to confess and 
ask absolution for the one thoughtless act of a lonely, fool- 
ish child!” 

“ Pardon me!” exclaimed his lordship, flushing remorse- 
fully, and putting forth his hand. “ 1, too, have erred, it 
seems, and have need to ask for forgiveness. Had I 
guessed your reason for reviving that painful subject at 
this late day. Lady Blanche, I Avould have told you at the 
first Avhat I tell you noAv : That one foolish act is forgiven 
and forgotten!” 

“Oh, is it possible that you fancied I had come to repeat 
the shameful act!” exclaimed her ladyship, taking her cue 
from his Avords. “Oh, Lord Keith, how you must have 
despised me!” 

“ Not more than I honor j'ou now,” he ansAvered, “ for 
the Avoman Avho has courage to humble herself by calling 
up such an experience for the simple sake of showing her 
penitence and acknowledging a fault is indeed a brave one, 
and Avorthy of the highest respect. Whatever errors you 
have committed, Lady Blanche, are amply atoned for by 
this sacrifice of your Avoman’s pride, and from the depths 
of my soul I honor and admire you. Long ago I forgave 
that thoughtless act. Will you not take my hand to-night 
as a pledge that from this moment I will cease to re- 
mem W it?” 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 81 

She fluttered forward with a rare and radiant smile and 
dropped her cool, soft paio into his outstretched palm. 

“ The past is forgiven, then?” she sweetly asked. 

“ More than forgiven — forgotten!” he gravely answered; 
and. suppressing a desire to laugh in his face, my lady 
smiled instead, knowing that her scheme had succeeded 
and she might write him down her dupe. 

He lingered half a minute longer to exchange a few 
pleasant words with her, then proffering her his arm, led 
her back to the drawing-room. 

The pleasant party wiis on the point of breaking up for 
the night, and an exclamation of satisfaction greeted his 
lordship as he made his appearance, although Inez^ -who 
was standing beside the piano chatting with Miss Ruthven 
—involuntarily arched her eyebrows as she saw that Lady 
Blanche was hanging on his arm. 

Resigning his charge. Lord Keith found his way to Inez, 
and smiling into her face, said: 

“ The evening has gone like magic.” 

” Which attest the excellent quality of your cigar!” she 
answered, with a half smile. 

‘‘Or the fascinations of Lady Blanche!” put in Miss 
Ruthven, gayly, whereat everj^body but Miss Catheron 
laughed, and in the midst of the merriment, the butler 
made his appeai*ance, and announced that ‘‘ the sherry and 
cigars were awaiting the gentlemen’s attention in the 
smoking-room,” and the old countess, taking the cue, gave 
the signal for the feminine element to beat a retreat, by 
rising and walking toward the door. 

The ladies, witli laughing good-nights, fluttered out of 
the room, took their tapers from the niche in the corri- 
dor, and, one after the other, pattered up tlie stairs to 
bed and left the gentlemen to straggle into the library, 
one by one, for their ‘‘hour o’ wassail afore the couch.” 

Lord Keith lingered until all but he and Miss Catheron 
had passed fi*om sight. 

‘‘A thousand happy dreams, my darling!” he said, as 
he bent over and stole a kiss from her lips. “Sweet, you 
have been very kind to me to-night — so kind that I can 
scarcely realize my happiness even yet. You will remem- 
ber all the promises you have made me, will you not, my 
darling?” 

“Did I make you many?” she answered, with a smile 
and a blush. “ I must have lived those happy moments 
in a dream, Alaric, for I can remember nothing .save the 
promise to be your wife.” 

“So that you remember that, all the others are yours 
to break at pleasure!” he answered, ardently; then, as 
bis thoughts returned to the silver star: “ I found this 


82 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


lying upon the ground after you left me,” he added, with 
a smile, as he took it from his pocket and laid it on her 
palm. “ It must have fallen from the sky when you told 
me that you loved me, my darling. I cannot read the in- 
scription' upon it, for it is in a language that I never 
learjied, but, although it is not a costly jewel, I fancy that 
you value it, Inez.” 

“I do— as a memento of this night, Alaric,” she an- 
swered, smilingly, thinking that he gave it to her as a 
talisman. “When I look at it in future I shall remem- 
ber where and when you found it, and the vow it repre- 
sents!” 

Then, with a tender good-night, she passed by him and 
went up the staircase, and blowing her a parting kiss, his 
lordship walked away in the direction of the library. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

” IN THE DEAD WASTE AND MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT.” 

From the top of the staircase — crouched back in a dark 
doorway, with her taper extinguished, and her small, 
sparkling hands so tightly shut that the nails bruised the 
soft flesh of her little pink palms — Lady Blanche Hay had 
been a silent and a secret witness to that tender good- 
night, and she could almost have shrieked aloud in her 
bitter envy and malice as she saw his lordship’s kiss fall 
lightly upon Miss Catheron’s lips. 

” It has come at last — come at last !” she dully muttered, 
setting her small teeth together, and speaking through them 
with a trick like the snarling of a vicious dog. ’’ He did 
ask her to be his wife while they were out there upon the 
terrace alone, and she has accepted him. What was the 
trinket he gave her as a keepsake and a memento of this 
night? It looked like a silver star, and it bore, he said, 
some inscription which he could not make out. I hope it 
is the record of my curse, and that he will one day under- 
stand it. I hate him — hate them both— with a bitterness 
and a depth of malice that will know no end until I have 
spoiled their lives, and wring their hearts as he wrung 
mine on the night he spurned my fortune and flung my 
love back in my face with loathing and disgust. Hark! 
they are parting now, and I must get away to my room 
before my presence here is discovered.” 

She saw that Miss Catheron was about to ascend the 
staircase, and, knowing that there was nothing more to 
be gained by playing the spy. slipped silently out of her 
dark retreat, and, like the ]n-etty, trcachei’ous little cat 
that she was, went with swift, soundless footfalls, down 
the corridor, and glided into her own room. 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


83 


“ Oh, it is you at last, miladi!” exclaimed her maid, 
starting out of a nap as her ladyship glided in. “ Ma foi! 
how very pale you are! and no wonder, since the taper is 
extinguished, and miladi was obliged to come through the 
dark passage alone and without light.” 

“Stop your silly chatter, Delphine!” exclaimed her 
ladyship, petulantly. “The taper was not extinguished 
until I myself blew out the light when I reached the door 
of this room, so you may spare yourself the trouble of re- 
tailing to Miss Catheron’s maid how your mistress came 
through the halls without a light, and made her appear- 
ance before you looking pale and startled!” 

“ Ah, miladi, I never mention your affairs to any one, I 
assure you!” 

“Don’t you, indeed? Then you have either mistaken 
your vocation, or you are the first of your class that 
didn’t go talking her mistress’ affairs to every Tom, Dick, 
and Harry of her acquaintance. If I am pale — which I 
doubt— it is due to a wretched headache, and no more, for 
there is nothing in the darkness that has power to alarm 
me — you may rest -assured. But there, don’t worry me 
Avith your protestations— your chatter annoys me, and I 
tell you my head aches !’ ’ 

“Shall I bathe it for you, miladi, when I take down 
y^our hair and arrange it for the night?” ventured Del- 
phine. 

“ No!” responded her ladyship ungraciously. “ Simply 
lay out my robe de nuit and go about your business. I 
sha’n’t need your assistance to-night. Take the lavender 
water with you, so that you will not have to disturb me 
by coming in here when you prepare my bdthin the morn- 
ing.” 

“Anything else, miladi?” 

“ Nothing except my chocolate at eight o’clock sharp. 
Now go!” 

Delphine took up the cu t glass flagon of lavender Avater, 
and having already placed her ladyship’s night- robe in the 
chair beside her couch, bowed herself out of the room, arid 
leH her mistress to the bad company of her own spiteful 
thoughts. 

Bolting the door as the maid took her departure, Lady 
Blanche walked to the Avindow, flicked back the curtains, 
and looked up at the calm, moonlighted sky. 

“ I Avonder how far it is to Bi’acken Hollow, and if I dare 
venture to make the journey to-night?” she muttered. 
“He said— my father — to come to-morrow and I forgot at 
the time how nearly impossible it Avill be to do so. The 
day’s festivities are all arranged, and, even if I could 
plead sickness as an excuse for not participating in them, 


u 


THE KINHS DAUGHTERS, 


I could not dream of leaving the house without being seen 
by some one. Besides, it is too dangerous for a woman in 
my position to risk visiting the gypsies by daylight, and 
to-morrow night we are to select and cast the play for our 
private theatricals. No! there is no other course left open 
to me. Either I must go to-night, or by failing to keep 
my appointment to-morrow, risk my father’s displeasure 
and perhaj^ lose the chance to learn something that may 
be of benefit to me in my warfare against Lord Keith and 
the woman he loves. 

“ No, I mustn’t let such a chance slip through my fingers. 
In twenty minutes there will not be a soul astir in the en- 
tire house. I can easily slip out and make my way to the 
gypsy encampment, and — good news or bad — know all be- 
fore morning!” 

Her voice died down and silence fell. 

For a moment or two she stood before the window noise- 
lessly beating the carpet with her slippered foot, and star- 
ing moodily at the brilliant sky, then, with a sudden move- 
ment : 

. “I will do it!” she said resolutely, she dropped the 
curtain and walked from the window. ” Such a possibility 
is worth some trouble, and I will go to-night!” 

Having arrived at this conclusion, she proceeded at once 
to remove her sumptuous evening toilet, then to select 
from her wardrobe a walking costume of rich, dark-green 
cloth— the plainest and least conspicuous of her many 
dresses— and hurriedly make the change necessary for the 
fulfillment of her purpose. 

Her dainty safin slippers were replaced by stout walk- 
ing-boots, over which she drew a pair of rubber sandals 
in order that her escape from the house might be made 
without the faintest sound betraying her footfalls as she 
passed along the corridor and descended the oaken stair- 
case; then she donned the darkest and least noticable 
article of head-gear she possessed, tied over it, and over 
her face as well, a thick, dark veil v?hich effectually con- 
cealed her features, and, having at length completed all 
arrangements, put out the light and made her way into the 
hall. 

The rubber sandals filled their mission to perfection, for 
not a sound disturbed the utter stillness of the house as 
she slipped down the staircase— a shadow among other 
shadows— and, guided by the one spark of light shed by 
the night-lamp in the lower corridor, made her way to 
the massive oaken doors, unlocked them, and slipped out 
into the balm and starshine of the summer night. 

With fleet yet echoless steps— as though she had become 
in reality the sleek and treacherous cat she was at heart, 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


85 


she crossed the paved courtyard— slipped into the shadow 
and stillness of the Oak Walk, and made her way unseen 
past the gatekeeper’s lodge, through the wickel, and so 
into the high-road beyond. 

She knew where Bi-acken Hollow lay, even though ig- 
norant of the exact distance; and, striking out in that di- 
rection, walked on with hurried steps. 

It was a long and dismal journey, but she never slack- 
ened her pace, and never experienced one faint qualm of 
terror from first to last. 

The light of the camp-fire guided her to the stamping 
ground of the gypsies as she threaded her way through 
the woods and descended into Bracken Hollow; and, al- 
though the barking of curs and the swift gliding of unseen 
bodies through the rustling thickets warned her as she ad- 
vanced that her presence was known, and she was being 
RuiTounded and shut in by an ever-narrowing circle of 
lawless marauders, who would hold her life less valuable 
than the jewels she had neglected to remove from her fin- 
gers, her babbling fragments of song never ceased to flow, 
and no tremor disturbed the smoothness of her voice. 

She walked on fearlessly — even though some cautious 
hand liad suddenly veiled the flickering light of the camp- 
fire — plunged through the coppice, plowed her way 
through the knee-deep bracken, and then, halting sud- 
denly, put her curved hands to her mouth and boldly hal- 
looed. 

“Hello there! are you all asleep?” she cried out at 
the top of her voice, dropping easily and gracefully — as 
if it were nature asserting herself— out of miladi into the 

gypsy. 

“Romanies, are yoti deaf or blind? Hallo-o-o, I say— I 
want you!” 

There was a swift rush through thicket and bracken 
upon all sides of her, and in one moment she was sur- 
rounded by a dozen stalwart gypsies, all cudgel in hand. 

“Th’art a brave ’un, lass!” exclaimed one burly fellow, 
as he sprung toward her. “Up wi’ th’ veil an’ Ah’l luk 
if th’ai't a fair ’un, too!” 

He thrust forth his grimy paw as though to tear the veil 
from her face as he spoke, but with a sudden movement 
of her small, white hand she dashed it aside and drew her- 
self up indignantly. 

“ Who touches me will have to answer for his bold- 
ness!” she cried out dauntlessly. “I am here unarmed, 
but not unprotected. I seek Marco, the king. Go to him 
— tell him his daughter is here and wishes to speak with 
him !” 

“Hoot! but th’art a good un at a jest an’ a plucky!” 


86 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


exclaimed the fellow, with a boisterous laugh. “Marco 
has na darter, m’lass, and th’art na kin o’ hisn.” 

“ I am the granddaughter of Hulda the Weasel, and the 
child of Marco, the king!” she returned, bravely. “Who 
wishe.s to prove the truth of it, and to feel the weight of 
Marco’s wrath, has only to offer an indignity to me. Go 
to the king — tell him that Maggie Talford is here, and 
then ” 

The sentence ended with a throttled scream. 

At the first mention of the name, “ Hulda the Weasel,” 
several of the men had darted away in the direction of the 
king’s tent; but it was not this, nor yet any offer of vio- 
lence from the few remaining ones which had called forth 
that startled scream from my lady’s lips. 

While yet she was speaking, a tall, white figure had 
glided, ghost like, through the bracken, and vanished 
among the tents and ti-ees; but in that brief moment, when 
it turned to look at her, as it glimmered by, the moonlight 
drenching it in a glare of steel-white si^lendor, my lady 
had seen something which chilled her very blood. 

“Inez Catheron— Inez Catheron!” she cried out, in a 
hoarse voice of terror. “Merciful Heaven! wiiat brings 
her to Bracken Hollow, among my father’s people?” 


CHAPTER XIX. 

“fortune brings in some boats that are not steered.” 

The burly fellow who had first accosted her, and who 
reveled in the characteristic name of Ishmael Montargis, 
caught her ladysliip’s cry of horrified surprise as that 
white figure glided across the “open,” and soundlessly 
vanished among the tents of the gypsy encampment, and 
tuvning sharply, he glanced into her pale, startled face. 

“Hoot, lass!* what be’t matter wi’ ’ee noo?” he ejacu- 
lated, in a surprised voice; for neitlier he nor his col- 
leagues had seen the gliding figure which had so terribly 
startled Lady Blanche. “ Ah’m thinkin’ thoort offen thar 
noodle, t’ way thoo screamt, ma missis — ay, an’ nobbut a 
daftie wud speer at t’ darkness lark thoort a-doin’ on wi’ 
’em ool’s eyes o’ tharn!” 

“That w^oman!” she gasped, scarcely noticing Ishmael’s 
words, and at the same time nervously drawing down her 
veil. “ How came she here? Which of jmu does she visit, 
and at this hour of the night? I thought she was averse 
to all people of the Romany race; I heard her say as much 
only this very day ; and now — my Heaven ! now I find her 
here!” 

“ Find who here?” growled Ishmael, glancing in the di- 
rection of her ladyship’s gaze, and, of course, discovering 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 87 

nothing. “ Theer be nobbut oursels in t’ Hollow, daftie! 
An’ noo lass but thee ha’ cooiu to-neet !’ ’ 

“But I saw her, I tell you !’’ persisted Lady Blanche, 
nervously. “ T saw Miss Catheron, as clearly as I now 
see you — Miss Catheron, of Glandore Court; and I wish 
to know — I must know — her purpose for coming here to- 
night !’’ 

Ishmael jerked out a short, deriding laugh, in which his 
colleagues joined. 

“Hoot, lass! thoort a daftie for sure,’’ he responded, 
with a shrug of his massive shoulders. “ Hearken to her, 
ma laddies ! Miss Catheron, o’ Glandore Coort, a-comin’ 
to Bracken Hollow — an’ i’ the dead o’ the neet — to spoken 
wi’ t’ Eomanies. Moor laik she be t’ one to send us to th’ 
lock-upat Leith, Ah’m thinkin’, eh, Jock, ma cully?’’ 

“Ay, much more likely, Ishmael,” responded Jock. 
“ If she is like her grandfather, the earl— ill luck feed him! 
— there’d be a gibbet for every Romany in England. His 
hatred for the whole gj'p^y race is as well known as his 
name throughout the United Kingdom, and it’s fair to sup- 
pose that his granddaughter shares it — it’s in the blood, at 
all events.” 

“But I tell you I saw her here not a moment since!” 
still persisted Lady Blanche. “I am no fool, and I know 
what I say. I have seen Miss Catheron too often to be mis- 
taken, and this I tell you: Whether you were aware of her 
presence or not, she certainly was here not two minutes 
ago. Possibly she has stolen into the camp Avithout her 
presence being discovered!” 

“ And possibly you are dreaming!” returned Jock. Avith 
a smile. “ Even supposing it possible that she could pass 
us, she could not, pass the outposts Avithout a warning of 
her coming being sent to the camp, any more than you did. 
If you saw any Avoman at all, it must have been one be- 
longing to the tribe, and your fancy has played you a trick. 
You, yourself, are the only stranger Avho has penetrated 
Bracken Hollow to-night, my good Avoman, and eA'en you 
must give an account of yourself if Marco denies the i*ela- 
tionship Avhich you claim exists between you both!” 

“ He Avill not deny it, be sure of that!” returned Lady 
Blanche. “And as I shall Avish to be conveyed to the 
cross-roads below Glandore Court as soon as my interview 
with Marco is over, you will do Avell to see that a vehicle 
is prepared for that purpose. What must necessarily pass 
between my father and me to-night may occupy much 
time, and I shall have need of a conveyance in order to re- 
turn to the cross-roads before the day breaks.” 

“Ah, then you came from that direction, did you?” 

“What is that to you?” responded her ladyship, testily. 


«8 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


“Your province is to obey, not to question. Do not over 
step the bounds!” 

Jock had just opened his lips to make reply to this, but 
the arrival of Marco gave matters a different turn. 

“ Jock — Ishmael — Pharos! what is this report which has 
been brought to me?” he demanded, as he strode forward, 
plowing his way through the bracken and approaching 
the spot Av here Lady Blanche stood. “They told me — Nar- 
rick and Paulo — that a stranger has entered the camp, and 
claims to be— Maggie! It is really you, my child?” 

This last remark — uttered as it was in a tone of joyous 
recognition — was due to the fact that her ladyship had 
suddenly lifted her veil while he was speaking and 
stepped toward him, wiih her small, gemmed hand ex- 
tended. 

“Yes, father,” she answered, as he took her hand, and. 
drawing her to his bosom, kissed and embraced her. “ It 
is really Maggie— really jmur daughter. I do not Avonder 
that you doubted it, for I have risked a great deal in 
coming here to-night. But I found that it Avould be im- 
possible for me to come, as you Avished, to-morroAv ; and, 
sooner than have you feel that I have forgotten my prom- 
ise, or desired to shirk the task you Avould haA’e me per- 
form, I liaA'e come to you to night to hear Avhat you have 
to tell me, and to prove to you that your people, your 
foes, your Avrongs, are mine, and I am ready to stand by 
them and you.” 

A faint murmur of satisfaction— voiced by all the 
gypsies — greeted this crafty little bit of theatrical clap- 
trap upon my lady’s part, and, tenderly patting her soft 
cheek, Marco lost no time in explaining to his admiring 
subjects that her ladyship’s claim Avas strictly true; that 
she really Avas his daughter — Avhom he had long believed 
dead — and that as she was noAv bent upon avenging the 
Avrongs of his people, as a gj^psy should, etc., etc., he 
Avished the strictest secrecy pi'eserA’^ed regarding her per- 
sonality, and Avhatever visits she might pay to the camp 
from this time forth, 

“Noav, my jolly lads, ‘fake away,’ and carry the news 
to your pals!” he concluded, after the pledge of fealty 
had been given her ladyship by the king’s admiring audit- 
ors; “ and you, Ishmael, bid Old Redempta breAv a punch 
for your future queen, and serve it Avithout delay. Come, 
Maggie, my lass— it’s only a step to my tent, and Ave can 
talk there better than here in the open. Besides, you can 
rest there while you listen, for I’ve a long story to tell 
you, my child.” 

Her ladyship made no response beyond a simple inclina- 
tion of the head indicative of her Avillingness to obey, and 


the KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


89 


leading her gently across the open into the heart of the 
encampment, Marco threaded the way between the clus- 
tering tents to the one set apart for his individual use, 
and brushing aside the coarse, red curtain whicn hung be- 
fore the entrance, ushered her into the “ royal marquee.” 

Lady Blanche had not forgotten her experience with the 
mysterious woman who had looked at her with Inez Cath- 
eron’s face and eyes — neither had she been satisfied by 
Jock’s explanation — and having seated herself upon the 
couch of skins toward which her father waved her, she re- 
lated the mysterious affair to him i-egarding the probabil- 
ity of Lord Glandore’s grandaughter being in Bracken 
Hollow to-night. 

Marco scouted the idea as preposterous. 

“She is known to no one here,” he said. “I, myself, 
have never set eyes upon her hated face, and moreover, 
this is the first visit this band has ever paid to Kent. 

“Doubtless the woman you saw was one belonging to 
the band, and as your thoughts to-night have been filled 
with Inez Catheron, you were deceived into finding a re- 
semblance between the two. If Lord Glandore’s grand- 
daughter had come to Bracken Hollow, I should have been 
apprised of it, never fear, for my purpose in selecting this 
particular band as the next with which I should make a 
brief sojourn, was simply to see that girl, and find, if pos- 
sible, some means of carrying out my long-cherislied 
hatred for Kingdon Catheron’s daughter, and avenging 
upon her the injury I suffered at her father’s hands. But 
here is Redempta with the punch, my lass. 

“ Let us drink a toast in honor of our reunion before I 
begin the story of the past. Set the punch-bowl upon 
yonder stool, ’Dempta, and then leave us. If it pleases 
you, you may then go to sleep and leave Zillah to continue 
her search alone. She has not yet found the lost talis- 
man, has she?” 

“ Naw !” returned Old Redempta, shaking her head for- 
lornly. “ It is a bad omen, I fear me, Marco; I do not be- 
lieve that the talisman has been lost in the bracken — I 
think it has been taken.” 

“Taken? By whom?” 

“ By the spirits, no doubt. They gave her life, and 
mayhap they have plucked the star from her forehead 
as a sign that they mean soon to take her back to them- 
selves.” 

“ Who is this mysterious creature whom you call Zillah?” 
queried Lady Blanche, as Old Redempta set down the 
punch-bowl and shambled out of the tent, whereupon 
Marco gave her a full account of the miracle supposed to 
have been perfoi*med in the behalf of Taric and Starlight 


THE KIN&S EAUOHTERE. 


do 

Bess, and of the reverence in which the ‘ ‘ spirit child ” was 
held by the gypsies. 

“ It cannot be possible that you place any reliance upon 
such a clap-trap yarn as that, father?” exclaimed her lady- 
ship, with a smile of derision. “Such a thing could not 
happen— it is preposterous, and surely you do not believe 
it?” 

“ Why not?” he answered. “ Such miracles are part of 
the Eomany faith, Maggie, and, besides, the girl is differ- 
ent in every way from'tlie mother who bore her, and from 
all others in the tribe. Her beauty is almost immortal, 
and her every instinct different from ours.” 

“ A clear proof that one or the other of her reputed pa- 
rents practiced an ingenious fraud,” responded her lady- 
ship, with a gesture of disdain. “ Doubtless the child was 
a foundling, picked up during their travels in America— I 
believe you said it ivas in America that this miracle was 
performed?” 

” Yes, in the State of Pennsylvania — in the very town 
where you were born, my darling, and where all my 
troubles began. Taric and Bess were searching for news 
of my mother’s whereabouts at the time, and the miracle 
was performed —according to their story— while they were 
trudging down a lonely road, and Bess held the dead body 
of little Zillah in her arms !” 

“I wonder at which point she laid it down and found or 
stole the little one she brought back in its place?” retorted 
her ladyship, sarcastically. ” Such a yarn would do well 
enough for the ‘ Legends of the Brocken,’ but outside of 
that fascinating volume of witch -love and hobgoblin rev- 
els ” 

‘‘We will not discuss it!” interposed Marco, with a 
shade of annoyance in his voice and eyes. ‘‘ Toss off your 
punch, my lass, and let me tell you without delay why 
you should hate the race of Catheron to the day of your 
death, and follow all who spring from it with the malice 
of a sleepless, tireless curse.” 

My lady drained her glass and sunk back upon the 
couch, her eyes glittering, and her whole face aflame with 
eager light; and drawing his stool nearer, so that he could 
watch her while he talked, Marco took up the story of the 
tragical past, and told it to the end. 

Lady Blanche listened breathlessly, her eyes narrowing 
until they gleamed like sparks of gold through the slits of 
their half-closed lids, her white lips tightly compressed, 
her nostrils dilated, and some fitful dashes of color coming 
and going over her twitching face; and when at length her 
father reached that part of the story which told how his 
gypsy mother had lost her life in attempting to avenge 


THE KING’S DAUGHTERS. 


91 


the wrongs of her son, but, nevertheless, had almost totally- 
destroyed the whole race of Catheron before she died, her 
ladyship leaped to her feet, no longer able to restrain her 
feelings, and capered about like a mad creature. 

“Good, good, good!” she cried out, boisterously, her 
voice rising with each successive iteration of the word, 
until it sounded, at the last, like the sci-eam of an eagle 
swooping down upon its prey. “I am proud of you, 
grandam ! You were a heroine, and should have lived — 
lived ! A whole family struck down for the wrongs done 
your son! Oh, it was a vengeance worthy of a gypsy, and 
it should be recorded upon a tablet of brass. So you were 
a twin daughter, wfjre you, my beautiful, ice-cold Inez 
Catheron? There was another born at the same time — an- 
other who might have lived to be just such an imperial 
‘ marble goddess ’ as jou have grown, had not my gypsy 
grandmother brought the brat to a worthy end. Oh, if it 
had only been you, my saintly Inez— my pearl of spotless 
purity — my hating and hated rival! You escaped the 
hands of my father’s mother, but my father’s daughter 
still remains to carry on the work, and crush you — crush 
you — crush you!” 

Marco arose with a low, exultant cry. 

“You mean to do it, then, Maggie?” he exclaimed, de- 
lightedly — “you mean to see the debt of vengeance paid 
in full and the last of the Catherons made as wretched as 
her father made me?” 

“I mean to do that— yes, father!” she answered, vehe- 
mently. “I had cause to hate before you told me this, 
but now that I know we were horn to be foes — now that I 
have your wrongs and my own humiliation to revenge — 
let Inez Catheron escape — if— she — caw— the malice of 
Mark Talford’s daughter ! I am Hulda Talford’s grand- 
daughter, father, and I will live to prove myself worthy 
of my grandam!” 

“Bless you, my Maggie — my bonny gypsy lass,” he an- 
swered, as he took her in his arms and kissed her. “ But 
it is growing late now, my darling, and you had better re- 
turn. When you need me in future, put a chalk-mark 
upon the gatepost at the court, and I will come to meet 
you where I met you first — in the Oak Walk at Glandore. 
But come now, my lass — I hate to hurry you away— but 
j’our safe return demands it, Maggie, and you had better 
be going. We have no conveyances beyond our caravans, 
but I’ll order a couple of horses prepared at once and ride 
with you as near as we dare go to Glandore Court. Wait 
a bit and I will give Ishmael the order.” 

He stepped toward the curtained entrance as he spoke, 
but my lady checked him. 


92 


THE KING’S DAUGHTERS. 


“ It is unnecessary, I think, father,” she said. “ I gave 
the man called Jock orders to prepare a conveyance to 
take me back to the cross-roads, and doubtless he attended 
to it as soon as he discovered that I really was your 
daughter. If there is no vehicle he has probably pre- 
pared a horse for me and one for the person who must 
accompany me, for the sake of bringing back the animal 
when I have done with it.” 

“Ay, very likely,” acquiesced Marco, as he swept aside 
the curtain and led her out of the tent. “And I dare say 
that he has also appointed himself to the post of escort, if 
for no other reason than that it will give him some pre- 
text for prowling about while Zillah is searching for the 
silver star which she has so unaccountably lost. The poor 
fellow is mad for love of our beautiful ‘spirit child,’ and 
has vainly wooed her for ” 

He stopped abruptly, for my lady’s hand had suddenly 
gripped his arm, and my lady’s voice uttered a smothered 
cry. 

“ Maggie, dear one, what is it?” he began, as he turned 
and caught sight of her colorless face and distended eyes. 
“Good Heaven! are you ill?” 

For answer my lady crept close to his side, and, lifting 
one trembling hand, pointed toward the camp-fire, where 
two human figures were standing, with the red luster of 
the blazing fagots agleam on their earnest faces. 

They wex*o Jock and Zillah, engaged in conversation. 

“That girl — that girl!” gasped her ladyship, in a voice 
of terror and amazement. “ Will you tell me again that 
I am deceived and none here is friendly to her? Look! 
for God’s sake— look! It is Inez Catheron, father, and that 
man lied to me when he said she wasn’t here!” 

“Inez Catheron!” repeated Marco, excitedly. “Show 
her to me at once. Where is she, Maggie? — where? 
where?” 

“There by the fire, talking with that man, Jock!” 
gulped her ladyship, nervously. “See, she is garbed like 
the others now, to escape detection; but she Avas all in 
Avhite when I saw her before. Oh, I knew that I could not 
be mistaken. Don’t you see her? There — there!” 

Marco followed the direction of her outstretched hand, 
saw the two figures beside the camp-fire, and then shrugged 
his shoulders. 

“ I said that your fancy had deceived you, Maggie,” he 
responded, nonchalantly. “ Come, lass, let us go look for 
the horses. It is only Zillah, my darling, and you have 
nothing to fear !” 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


93 


/ 


CHAPTER XX. 

“down, specter, down— i’ll not believe!” 

My lady turned slowly, and transfixed him with a stare 
of utter incredulity. 

Then : 

On\Y Zillah !" she gasped, in a dull, labored voice. 
“ For God’s sake, father, tell me I am mad or dreaming, 
or did you really say that that is the girl whom you call 
Zillah, the ‘Spirit-Child’?” 

“Ttiatisthe girl— yes,” he answered. “ But why are 
you so terrified, Maggie? Does she then resemble the girl 
for whom you mistook her?” 

“Resej/ibZe her!”— my lady’s dilated eyes flashed back 
to the group by the camp-fire as she spoke, and two vivid, 
scarlet spots leaped like tongues of flame into her colorless 
cheeks. “Resemble Inez Catheron, do you say? My 
Heaven, are you all fools to be so easily duped? She is 
Inez Catheron herself ! 

“It is true, I tell you— true!” — vehemently. “She is 
playing a dual role — leading a double life — and making 
dupes of you all. One day she is at Glandore Court as 
Inez Catheron the heiress, and the next she figures here as 
Zillah the Spirit Child.” 

Marco glanced at her with a start of nervous apprehen- 
sion, and for the first time a suspicion of her sanity flashed 
across his mind. 

“Child! child! be reasonable!” he gently said. “Such 
a thing would be impossible, for the tribe is often leagues 
away. And besides, Zillah scarcely ever ventures abroad 
during the day-time, and then she is always masked. 
She has been reared from childhood among my people, 
and for years has been attached to this tribe, "it is you 
who are duped, Maggie, not we, and as for the white gown 
in which you first saw her, that is her ‘ devotional robe.’ 
During these nights when the moon is at full, she is al- 
ways garbed in white — as a symbol of her spiritual birth 
— and in that costume, with a talisman in the shape of a 
star upon her forehead ” 

“A silver star!” cut in her ladyship, excitedly, her 
thoughts traveling back to the interview she had secretly 
watched on the staircase at Glandore Court. “Speak, in 
Heaven’s name, father! Was it a silver star engraved 
with a motto in some strange language?” 

“Yes,” he answered. “It was a symbol of the star 
which was supreme at the time her spirit was restored, 
and it bore the motto, ^ Salla apollis glut,' which, in the 
Romany tongue, means, ‘ born of the blood of angels, ’ To- 


94 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


night the star was mysteriously lost, and she has been seek- 
ing it everywhere!” 

My lady caught her breath with a dull, wheezing sound, 
and her whole frame trembled with emotion. 

“She is- Inez Catheron, I tell you, father,” she persist- 
ed— “she is Inez Catheron, or else Oh, my heart!— 

could such a thing be possible? The supposed miracle oc- 
curred in America— occurred in the very town where that 
tragedy was enacted; and, if I am not mad, and there are 
really Uco, then the likeness is due to something more than 
mere chance. If I could only see this Zillah closer— only 
hear her voice, I might detect some flaw, discover some 
difference.” 

“ Shall I call her here?” suggested Marco. “ She has 
doubtless heard of your presence in the camp, and will be 
only too glad to answer the summons. Shall I call her, 
Maggie?” 

“No— no — no!” returned her ladyship, excitedly. “I 
wish to see her, to hear her speak, "and to study her face 
without being seen myself! Look! the bushes are thick 
over there near the camp -fire. Can we not steal over there 
and get behind them without our presence being sus- 
pected?” 

“Yes, come this way!” responded Mai’co, slipping be- 
hind the tent and drawing her toward the thick coppice. 
“ Gather up your garments so that the bi’ambles do not 
catch them, and tread lightly for fear the leaves will 
rustle. Take my hand and let me guide you. That is bet- 
ter. Come!” 

My lady obeyed all orders, and, stealing along as though 
she were a shadow, made a slight detour, reached the spot 
some ten feet removed from the camp-fire, where Jock and 
Zillah stood, and sinking down upon her knees behind the 
bushes, gently parted the leaves and stared in breathless 
amazement at Inez Catheron’s double. 

Every feature, every gesture, every trick of the girl’s 
flashing eyes, and every movement of her golden head was 
an exact counterpart of the heiress — she spoke, and Lady 
Blanche almost cried out, so like the voice was to Miss 
Catheron’s own. 

Jock was speaking now; and holding her breath as 
she crouched there in the darkness, my lady stared and 
listened. 

“Are you holding against me what I said to-night be- 
side the stream, Zillah?” he was saying, in a voice of sullen 
displeasure. “Come, now, won’t you say even one kind 
word to me? It isn’t my fault if I love you, is it? Your 
own foster-parents, the spirits, have put it into my heart, 
and surely they know what is best, my beautiful. Don’t 


THE KING'S DAliGHTEKS. 


95 


be angry with me, Zillah. We have been friends so long 
— ever since we w^ere boy and girl together — and I have 
loved you as no other will or can. Won’t you say some- 
thing to me? Please!” 

“ T have nothing to say,” she answered, coldly, and with 
such a marvelous reproduction of Miss Catheron’s frigid 
sort of politeness upon certain occasions that Lady Blanche 
involuntarily gripped her father’s arm. ” I can say noth- 
ing that will please you, I am Avell aware, and in that case, 
it is just as well — better, perhaps — to remain silent.” 

Jock’s face reddened in the firelight, and he drove his 
heel into the earth with a vicious dig. 

“It’s hard for an honest love to be treated in this way, 
because you are bewutched by a man who wouldn’t crook 
his finger to prolong your life !” he growled, in a voice of 
sullen wrath. ” If I were a beggarly lord, now, with noth- 
ing to recommend me but a well-looking face, and no in- 
terest in you save the basest, I dare say you’d be willing 
to thi’ow yourself into my arms, and worship me accord- 
ingly. But being only a gypsy, who offers you an honest 
love, you treat me as though I were a dog, unfit to be 
granted one kind word.” 

The girl’s face, which had flushed crimson under his in- 
sulting Avords, now paled until it gleamed in the firelight 
like a marble mask. 

” You are a dog!” sbe said, sharply, throwing back her 
head and regarding him with a look of righteous indigna- 
tion. “for none but the most despicable of human curs 
Avould insult a Avoman because he cannot Avin her. You 
are Avell called ‘ Jock ’ — it is an ape’s name, and the ape, 
lacking the brain, cannot distinguish the difference be- 
tween the man and the monkey Avhen they are dressed 
alike. No! do not trouble yourself nor distress me by 
further reference to the subject. I wish to hear nothing 
more from a man Avho only addresses me Avith slanders, 
and only merits indignation and contempt.” 

Stung by her Avords, Jock flushed a duller, angrier crim- 
son, and shut his teeth Avith an audible click. 

“ What precious high heels some shoes have!” he said, 
Avith a savage laugh. “They tumble a body sometimes, 
my lass, and you’d better take Avarning.” 

“From you I Avill take nothing, and least of all — inso- 
lence!” flashed Zillah, indignantly. “Keep your solici- 
tude until I desire it; and since you cannot lay claim to 
being even a Romany Rye (a gypsy gentleman), go to the 
kennel with your fellow-curs, and leave me in peace.” 

“Take care I do not leave you a dead lover as a memen- 
to of this!” snarled Jock, savagely. “ If you are so Avon- 
derfully fond of this accursed Lord Keith that you are 


96 


THE KINHS DAUGHTERS. 


willing to risk everything for the sake of gaining his favor, 
mayhap I’ll take to playing the watchdog and guarding 
you in spite of yourself. If the apple hangs too high for 
me to pluck, I’ll not deal lightly with the man who brings 
it to the dust for the mere satisfaction of trampling upon 
it.” 

Lady Blanche caught her breathe with a keen, sibilant 
hiss, and an expression difficult of analysis passed over her 
pale, pretty face. 

Zillah made no reply, and stung by her silence, Jock’s 
wrath broke out anew. 

“I’m watching you — understand that!” he glowered, 
sullenly. “I’ve known for many a day that you’re in 
love with that pale-faced swell, and I know that the love 
will bring you no good, just as surely as I know that he 
can’t take such as you for a wife, and wouldn’t if he 
could. 

“ I heard to-day from one of the under-keepers at Glan- 
dore Court that if Lord Keith isn’t engaged to Miss Cath- 
eron, he soon will be, and with such as her in his eye, he’ll 
not be fool enough to waste an honest thought upon such 
as you. He’s taken your heart from me, curse him, and 
I owe him a grudge for that. But I’m not giving up hope 
yet, Zillah, and I never will until there's a better — or 
worse— reason than now. If you’re an honest lass, you’ll 
give up all thought of him when he has a wife — if you are 
fool enough to waste many on him, even as it is — but so 
help me Heaven, Zillah, if Lord Keith ever conies between 
us and puts you further from me than you are at this min- 
ute, I’ll never rest night nor day until I’ve come up with 
him and had such vengeance as a gypsy should !” 

He lifted his right hand with a gesture wholly theatric, 
swung round abruptly, and without another word, left 
her. 

For a moment Zillah stood and looked after him, her 
lips quivering and lier eyes assuming a mournful expres- 
sion; then breaking down suddenly, she dropped upon 
her kness beside the fii’e and buried her face in her 
hands. 

“Oh, Alaric, oh, my love!” she cried out brokenly, “as 
though it needed his words to tell me how little hope I 
have, and how little you would really care for me if you 
knew that it was Zillah, the gypsy, and not Inez Cath- 
eron, the heiress, to whom you spoke those tender words, 
and whose head lay on your breast to-night! Oh, my 
love, my life, my own heart’s own! why could you not 
love me instead of her when we are so wonderfully alike ! 
She has all that could make life beautiful— money, jewels, 
position — why need she have your love also, when you 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


97 


alone would be the world to me? I hate her for it! oh, I 
hate her for it I it seems so cruel that my life should go 
like this!” 

And if my lady — listening behind the hushes— had long 
doubted, she knew now, for those Avords told her that 
Zillah, the gypsy, and Inez Catheron, the heiress, were 
two separate, distinct Avomen, alike as one, loving as one, 
but tivo in all else. 


CHAPTER XXI. 

“TILL THE BLACK SLIME BETRAY HER AS SHE CRAWLS.” 

For a moment she knelt there, stunned by this aston- 
ishing discovery, and dimly foreseeing her Avay to the 
accomplishment of her revenge; then, beckoning her 
father to folloAv. she ai*ose quickly, parted the bushes, 
and stepped to Zillah’s side. 

“My poor girl, Avhy are you Aveeping?” she sweetly 
said, as she bent and stroked the girl’s golden hair. 
“You seem in trouble, my dear. Can I do nothing for 
you?” 

Zillah Avas oir her feet in an instant, blushing, trembling, 
confused. 

“Who are you?” she began, in a startled voice, as the 
firelight revealed to her the face of a stranger. Tlien, as 
she caught sight of Marco issuing from the thicket and ap- 
proaching her ladyship, “ Pardon me !” she humbly added. 
“I know now. They haA-^e told me of your presence 
— Pharos and the rest. You are the king’s daughter, 
Avhom he so long believed dead.” 

“Yes, I am Marco’s daughter,” admitted her ladyship, 
Avith one of her sAveetly seraphic smiles; “and you, I be- 
lieve, are Zillah, the spirit child. You are very beautiful, 
my dear, and I hope we may become the best of friends. 
But Avill you not tell me the cause of your grief, Zillah? I 
should like to know Avhy one so young and fair should be 
weeping here alone.” 

Zillah colored Avith embarrassment, and nervously fum- 
bled Avith the bright fastenings of her crimson bodice. 

“I— I have lost my talisman— the silver star,” she stam- 
mered, “and they say— Zorah and old Redempta— that 
the spirits have taken* it, as a sign that they Avill soon re- 
call me from earth. I - wore it upon my forehead this 
evening, and now it is gone — I know not Avhere. But I 
Avill not annoy you Avith my troubles, and, if you Avill pai-- 
don me, I think I had better search among the bracken 
again — the star may have fallen there.” 

She made a movement to depart as she spoke, but Lady 
Blanche gently checked her. 


98 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


“Stop a moment, Zillab, I wish to speak with jmu,” she 
said; then, turning to Marco: “Please leave ns together 
for a time, fatlier,” she added. “ If you will kindly look 
to the horses, I shall be ready to take my departure as soon 
as they are prepared. You will not mind, I am sure, if I 
ask to speak a few words in private with this dear girl?” 

‘•Certainly not,” returned Marco. “When you are 
ready to go, walk down to the Hollow, Maggie, and you 
will find me waiting with the horses beside the stream.” 

Lady Blanche bowed her head as a sign that she under- 
stood, and would act accordingly ; then, remaining silent 
until he had trudged away and left them, she turned to 
Zillah, and said, in a hurried voice : 

“ Don’t start, my dear; but if you wish to know where 
your precious talisman is, I can tell you. It is at present 
in the keeping of one we both dislike— Inez Catheron— 
and it was given to her by Loi-d Alaric Keith!” 

“ By Lord Alaric Keith?” 

“Yes! He found it after you left him to-night, and he 
gave it to her, believing that he was restoring it to its 
rightful owner,” responded Lady Blanche, taking her cue 
from what she had overheard Zillah herself confess, and 
adding to it the knowledge she possessed in regard to the 
silver star. “You see I know of the imposition you 
practiced to-night, Zillah, although his lordship is in utter 
ignorance of it.” 

Zillah shrunk back with a faint, low cry, and regarded 
her ladyship in amazement. 

“ Oh, how did you discover it?” she gasped. “ We were 
alone in the Oak Walk — Lord Keith and I — and — and I as- 
sure you that I did not try to impose upon him. He mis- 
took me for. Miss Catheron, caught me in his arms, kissed 
and embraced me, and I ” 

“ You were happy, and had not the heart to embarrass 
him nor cheat yourself by acknowledging the truth!” in- 
terrupted Lady Blanche, with a sleek, sweet langh. “ Dear 
child! I do not blame you, so you needn’t wear that look 
of delicious confusion. I would have done the same my- 
self had fate played me such a clever card as it has dealt 
to you through this miraculous resemblance. Not that I 
love Lord Keith, understatid — for my heart is given else- 
where — but because I hate Inez Catheron, and would be 
willing to lend myself to any scheme which promises dis- 
comfiture to a Avoman who has wronged me in more ways 
than one, and who would have me drummed out of every 
reputable house in the kingdom, if she knew I was the 
daughter of a gypsy. More’ than that, she -would exert 
herself to pai-t me from the man I love, and if she had her 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 99 

the doors of Glaiidore Court would be closed against 
me to-morrow.” 

“You are stopping there?” — in surprise. “Are you, 
then, a servant at that great house?” 

“No, I am a guest,” i-esponded her ladyship. “My 
name is Lady Blanche Hay, but you must keep that secret 
to youi’self, Zillah; I have work to perform in that house 
— gypsy work!” 

“ You do not, sui’ely, mean robbery?” 

“ No, I mean vengeance, and against Inez Catheronl” 
returned her ladyship, sinking her voice to an intense 
whisper. ‘ ‘ My mission is to strike her as she and her peo- 
ple have struck me and mine, and if she ever becomes 
Lord Alaric Keith’s wife, my vow will cause me to strike 
him as Avell. Plush! do not cry out so bitterly, for I Avish 
to ask your aid in carrying out the scheme!” 

“ Oh, no, no, no!” exclaimed Zillah, in a voice of agony 
and despair; “ I could not aid you in any work that would 
bring the smallest pang to him. Lady Blanche. I would 
sooner suffer a thousand deaths than harm one hair of Lord 
Keith’s head.” 

Her ladyship’s eyes gleamed Avith satisfaction, and 
something like a smile of exultation moved over her rose- 
leaf lips. 

“ You love him so ver}' Avell, then?” slie softly said. 

“ I love him so Avell that I Avould lie down and let him 
trample upon me if I thought it Avould make him hap- 
pier,” Avas the frank response. “I think the seeds of this 
love must have been lying in my heart ever since I first 
saw his face. Lady Blanche; but to-night, Avhen I rested in 
his arms and his lips touched mine, the seeds took deeper 
root and blossomed as they grew!” 

“ Then, believing he AAms in danger and you could save 
him, jmu Avould risk a great deal to do it, Avould you not, 
Zillah?” 

“I Avould risk anything— anything!” responded the 
girl, vehemently. “ I tell you," candidly, that I Avould 
even betray j'our relationship to Marco— even risk the 
Avrath of the Avholerace of gypsies, and die the death of 
torture set apart by our people for the being av ho baffles a 
Romany rev'enge, so that I could save Lord Keith from 
suffering!” 

Again my lady’s eyes glowed, and again that smile 
moved across her delicate lips. 

“ Well done, my dear!” she said, as she patted, approA^- 
ingly, the girl’s golden head. “His lordship will meet 
Avith no misfortune, so that you live up to that creed and 
join forces Avith me. I owe him no grudge— as a man I re- 
spect and admire him— aud unless he links his fate to Inej; 


100 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


Catheron’s, my hand will never be raised against him. 
From that union he must be saved, and you must do 
it.” 

“ I. Lady Blaiiche? Oh. how can I? I am but a poor, 
friendless gypsy, while Miss Catheron is rich, powerful, 
and '’—this with a sob— ” Lord Keith loves her. Ah, if 
you could have heard how tenderly he spoke to me to- 
night, when he mistook me for her; if you could have 
known how reverently he kissed me, and how foolishly 
happy it made me, even though I realized it was all 
meant for her! I could have died then, and felt myself 
blessed !” 

“But if, instead, you could live, Zillah, and enjoy that 
happiness forever— if in saving him you could win for 
jmurself the blessing of his love, and own it for a lifetime 
as you owned it for so brief a time to-night — what then, 
my dear, what then?” 

“ Oh, Lady Blanche, can you ask me? The world would 
be a paradise, and I the most blessed of earth’s ci’eatures. 
But such a thing may never be, you kno\v.” 

“Such a thing may be, and will be, if you choose to join 
hands with me,” responded Lady Blanche, earnestly. 

‘ ‘ But hark ! that is the clock at Leith striking 1 lu-ee, and 
it will be daylight before I reach the Court, if I linger to 
talk with you now. Come to the east wicket, at half past 
nine, the night after to-morrow, Zillah, and I will explain 
my plan to you. A glorious life — a life of peace and love 
with Aleric Keith— is within the grasp of your hand, and 
if you will only come to the east wicket ” 

“I will be there. Lady Blanche!” interposed Zillah, ex- 
citedly. “ Oh, my good, kind friend, I will bless you for- 
ever if such happiness can, indeed, be mine!” 

“Then I shall consider myself blessed already,” tittered 
her ladyship gayly. “ Good-night, Zillah. Dream of Ala- 
I’ic Keith, and look upon that lovely life as yours, when 
you wish to live it.” 

Then softly moving her jeweled hand, she fluttered off 
and went to join her father. 

She found him awaiting her with the horses beside the 
stream in the Hollow, and i-an toward him with her pretty 
face radiant with happiness. 

“ For Heaven’s sake, Maggie, Avhat is the meaning of 
this affair?” he began, excitedly ; but her ladyship laughed 
and clapped her soft hand over his mouth. 

“No; don’t ask me anything now!” she laughed. 
“Only help me into the saddle, and I will tell you as soon 
as we are out of the Hollow.” Then as he assisted her to 
mount her horse and lightly sprung upon his own : “ Drive ' 
fast!” she added, in a voice that shook with utter happi 


THE KING^S DAUGHTERS. 101 

ness. “ Let me get somewhere tliat I can relieve myself 
by speaking, father, or I shall go mad with joy !” 

With these words she struck hei- horse a sharp blow 
and rode forward at all speed; and Marco, following suit, 
overtook her just as she reached the high-road. 

“ Speak now !’’ he exclaimed, hoarsely. “ Why did you 
wish to talk in secret with Zillah? and what is the mean- 
ing of this sudden change in you, Maggie !” 

“ It is because I have found the way to my revenge, and 
discovered what a dupe you have been !” responded her 
ladyship, with an h 3 '*sterical laugh. “ Said I not that 
those preciops rascals — Taric and Starlight Bess — had 
plaj^ed a trick upon jmu all? Oh, wait until jmu have 
seen Inez Catheron, and you will know then who and 
Avhat your precious Zillah is. and what a powerful reason 
Ave have for crushing hei', after I have lured her to crush 
others for us!” 

“Crush Zillah!” gasped Marco, Avhirling in his saddle 
and staring at her. “In the name of Heaven, Maggie, 
tell me— if you have not suddenly gone mad— what you 
mean by that?” 

“I mean that I have just put two and two together, 
and pi-oved you as Avitle.ss as an idiot!” responded her 
ladj^ship, Avitii passionate vehemence. “ I mean that my 
grandmother only half accomplished her purpose Avhen 
she tried to destroj^ the child she stole from Catheron 
Park. I mean that Taric and Bess lied to you all — that 
Kingdon Catheron's twin daughters both live, and that 
that girl, Zillah, is one of them!” 


CHAPTER XXII. 

“the play— the play's the thing!” 

Marco started so violently as her ladyship made this — 
to him— astonishing revelation, that he unwittingly jerked 
the horse’s bridle, and with a snort and a plunge, the ani- 
mal darted foi’Avard, Avent clattering up the moonlighted 
road from tlie Hollow, and held this pace for several rods 
before his rider could check his Avild career. 

When, hoAvever, he had succeeded in bringing the horse 
to a standstill, and her ladyship riding forvvard joined 
him, she found him sitting erect in the saddle, and so 
pale, that his face looked positively ghastly in the moon- 
light. 

“ In the name of Heaven, Maggie, are you mad !” he ex- 
claimed, not giving Lady Blanche an opportunity to utter 
a Avord, as she cantered up to his side. “Zillah, Kingdon 
Cal heron’s daughter? Our Zillah the twin sister of Lord 
Grlandore’s grandchild?” 

\ 


102 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


“Even 2/otir Zillah, if you choose to call her that !” re- 
sponded Lady Blanche, in a little splenetic voice, as she 
leaned forward, and gave her small, dark liead an em- 
phatic twitch. “ If you had used your wits and made 
some effort to see Inez Catheron— without wasting all 
these years in dreaming of a revenge which might easily 
have been accomplished long ago — you would be as cer- 
tain of it as I now am! You have acted like a block-head, 
father— it may not sound very filial to say so, but it is the 
iridh all the same — and I think you have good cause to 
bless the chance Avhich led me to visit Bracken Hollow to- 
' night, and put you in the way of perfecting a revenge 
which has been in your power for years.” 

“You have seen Inez Catheron, and I haven’t, and 
there’s where j'ou have one advantage over me.” 

“I needn’t have it for long, then,” interposed Lady 
Blanche, sharply. “Steal into the grounds to-morrow 
night; get as close to the terrace as you dare at. say, nine 
o’clock, and I will invent some pretext — the beauty of the 
moonlight, for instance — to draw everybody out of the 
house, and you will see her then.” 

“I’ll do it,” he answered determined!}'. “But you 
must give me some clew to her identity, so that I shall 
know which is she.” 

“ No need for that. Her likeness to Zillah will pi-ove 
enough to identify her, father.” 

“ She is so very like her, then?” 

“Like her?” — with a short, metallic laugh. “So like 
her that Inez Catheron' s betrothed husband has met her 
and made love to her, believing her to be his ^ancee.” 

“ Is it possible?” 

“ ‘Possible, probable, true!’ ” returned her ladyship, 
with a soft laugh, not unlike the purring of a cat. “It 
is of that astounding resemblance I mean to make capi- 
tal in this scheme for evening old scores, monpere.' I 
have a personal grudge to satisfy apart from the settle- 
ment of your Avrongs, and I jnean to kill two birds Avith 
one stone. I have a little affair of the heart to avenge 
upon Lord Alaric Keith — Inez Catheron’s fiance — and in 
smiting her I mean also to pay my debt to him ! Your 
precious ‘ spirit child ’ loA'es this Lord Keith to distraction ; 
you overheard enough to-night to satisfy you upon that 
score, I fancy, and Avith that love I mean to wipe out all 
our scores!” 

Marco glanced up sharply, impressed by her ladyship’s 
calm assurance, but not quite understanding her drift. 

“You’re too deep for me. Maggie,” he said, “and I 
can’t quite make out Avhat you are di'iving at.” 

“ Can’t you?” returned her ladyship, Avith another pur- 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


103 


ring laugh. “Weil, then, keep your appointment Avith 
me to-morrow night, and I’ll make every tiling clear to 
you. There isn’t time to explain it now, for, see! Ave are 
at the cross-roads, and I must leave you here. Day Avill 
break presently, and it Avill be dangerous for me to linger 
longer. I should run the risk of being seen if I passed 
through the grounds of the court after dawn, so I mustn’t 
delay another moment. We must say good night and 
part hei*e, father.” 

She had already reined in her horse, and folloAving suit, 
Marco slid down from the saddle and assisted her to 
alight. 

“Good-night,” she said, as she placed her small jeweled 
hand in his. “Remember the hour— at nine o’clock to- 
morrow night — and do not leave the grounds until I have 
conti'ived to see and speak Avith you in private. As soon 
as practicable! will steal from the others, and stroll down 
the Oak Walk — the place where you first met me — and I 
shall expect to find you there.” 

“I’ll not forget,” he answered; then suffering him to 
draw her to his bosom and press a kiss upon her lips. 
Lady Blanche drew doAvn her veil, gathered up her drap- 
eries, and waving him adieu, darted away in the darkness, 
and hurried in the direction of Glandore Court. 

The fii*st streaks of dawn Avere already visible in the east 
Avhen she emerged from the shadow of the Oak Walk and 
ran noiselessly up the marble steps of the mansion, to find 
everything just as she had left it, and the great oaken door 
still unlocked. 

She slipped in like a shadow, soundlessly slid the bolt 
into its socket and turned the heavy key ; then, with no 
more noise than a cat, she crept up the broad staii’case 
and moved stealthily along in the direction of her own 
I'oom. 

As she reached the door of Loi’d Keith’s apartments, she 
paused a moment and shook her small, dimpled fists at the 
oaken panels. 

Then, Avith a soft, soundless laugh she slipped onward 
again, passed through the darkness to her own bed-cham- 
ber, and twenty minutes later Avas sleeping as peacefully 
as*a little child. 

At eight o’clock, her maid— true to her instructions — 
awoke her to receive her matutinal chocolate, Avas told 
that “miladi had passed a Avretched night, and was not 
feeling Avell enough to rise for breakfast this moiming;” 
and was then dismissed, with orders to make her mis- 
tress’ excuses* to Lady Elsdale and Miss Catheron, and 
then “ keep away from the j’ooms until summoned to as- 
sist in the task of dressing;” which, by the way, Avas not 


104 


mE KIN&S DAUGHTBEE, 


until just before luncheon; for, her ladyship, fatigued by 
her nocturnal escapade, slept serenely until half-past one 
o’clock. 

She came down to the lunch-table looking none the 
worse for lier supposed illness, and found that the day’s 
programme had, at Loi-d Glandore’s request, been changed 
upon her account— the earl maintaining that it would be 
eminently discourteous if the hostess should indulge in a 
day’s outing while one of the guests was ill — so that the 
festivities took the form of tennis and croquet, freely in- 
terspersed with “ brilliant flashes of silence,” upon the part 
of Lord Keith and his fiancee, and periods of mild flirtation 
for the rest of the house-party. 

The engagement of the lovers was now an “ open secret;” 
for Lord Keith, following out his original intention, had 
this very day, shortly after breakfast, sought an interview 
with the old earl, made a formal proposal for Miss Cath- 
eron’s hand, and found his suit so well favored that by the 
time he left the library, not only was the engagement a 
settled question, but the wedding-day itself was named — 
and this by no less a pei-soii than Lord Glandore himself. 

“Our house- party is to come to an end on the first of 
August, Inez,” his lordship said; “and as the tenth of 
August is the anniversary of your dear dead mother’s 
birthday, wo certainly can find no better way of celebrat- 
ing it, my darling, than by the marriage of her daughter 
to the man of her heart. No, you needn’t offer any objec- 
tions, you little dissenter — seven weeks is quite time 
enough to prepare tlie bridal trousseau of a queen, when 
Paris and your ' adorable Worth ’ are so near by; so you 
may tell your aunt Alicia to order your outfit Avithout 
delay, and make no more wry faces about the shortness of 
the time, you puss. Shortness, indeed ’’—with a crisp, 
jolly laugh— “ I’ll stake my life that your ‘ darling Alaric ’ 
won’t complain upon that score— will you, you rascal?” 

“ Not if it were next week instead of next August,” re- 
turned his lordship, with a happy laugh. “ There is cer- 
tainly no obstacle to our immediate union, and, in that 
case, I can see no reason for delay.” 

“ A lover-like sentiment, truly,” exclaimed Lord Glan- 
dore, with a smile. “ So we may consider the mattbr 
settled, and, instead of winding up our house-party upon 
the first of August, Inez, we’ll prolong it to the tenth, and 
bring it to a close with a wedding. No, no, no. Miss Per- 
versity, I will listen to no objections. You have ruled me 
with a rod of iron ever since you were four months old, 
and now I intend to assert my dignity for a change and 
have matters go my way this time. There, take her, Keith, 
and God bless the pair of you! I believe you’re worthy of 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 105 

her, my lad, and I know that she’s worthy of the best man 
ever born.” 

So tlie matter was settled, and, vhen Mi.ss Catheron 
walked out of the libi-ary with her affianced liusband. the 
betrothal ring of the Keiths glistened on lier left hand. 

That alone would have been enough to betray the truth 
to every soul at the Court, but, under existing circum- 
stances it became absolutely necessary to announce the 
engagement to the guests, so that all preparation for this 
brilliant wind-up to Miss Catherou’s house- party might be 
made without delay. 

Lady Blanche had heard the news from the lips of her 
maid — when that important factor came up to assist with 
her ladyship’s toilet, as already stated, and, gliding to 
Lord Keith’s side, as she entered the morning-room and 
found him abstractedly pulling the fi-inge of the window 
curtain, while awaiting the sound of the lunch-bell, and 
the consequent reappearance of the ladies, she laid one 
soft, bejeweled hand upon his coat sleeve and looked up 
into his eyes with a face all smiles and dimples. 

“May one congratulate you?” she sweetly said. ‘‘I 
have just heard the news. I am very glad. Lord Keith—' 
vex’y glad, indeed ; 3"ou have made a noble choice, and she 
is worthy of you.” 

“My only Avish is — that I maj’ be worthj" of her,” re-- 
sponded he. with a smile, as he gracefully acknowledged 
hei’ ladA'ship's congratulations; then thej^ fell to chatting 
in a pleasant, desultory' waA^ until the rest of the party 
came trooping in, and the tinkling of the bell announced 
that luncheon Avas read}". 

From that point to the time of dressing for dinner, the 
afternoon Avas rather a tedious one for LadA" Blanche. 

But Avith the knowledge that night Avould soon come — 
that night which promised to see the first actual step 
taken tOAvard the fulfillment of her revengeful schemes — 
mAT lady’s flagging spirits seemed to revive, and Avhen at 
length she issued from her dres.-sing-room cand came doAvn- 
stairs— a vision of loveliness in aheil-])ink satin and duchess 
lace — she Avas quite her old brilliant self again; and her 
soft, flute- like laughter rippled SAveetl}’ out as she joined 
in the general conversation. 

Dinner Avas served and dispatched, the gentlemen Avere 
left for their half hour Avith the Avalnuts and Avine and 
cigars, Avhile the ladies assembled in the draAving-room to * 
discitss the relatiA’e merits of tulle and satin and faille, in 
connection Avith the coming tenth of August: then the 
masculine element reappeared upon the scene, and the 
real business of the evening — the arrangement for the pro- 
posed private theatricals — was taken up in earnest. 


106 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


Here Lady Blanche Ilay shone pre-eminent. 

The play was selected, and the characters assigned . to the 
several members of the party under her ladyship's skillful 
guidance; a list of the requisite properties aud costumes 
was made out; orders were Avritteii for artists and car- 
penters to come down from London to paint the scenery 
and erect the mimic stage; the date of the performance 
was definitely settled ft)r three weeks from to-night, and, 
finally, to-morrow was decided upon as the time to begin 
rehearsals. 

“Who shall we get for ‘coach’ and stage-manager?” 
queried Miss Catheron, recollecting how her ladyship had. 
flown into a passion when it was proposed that she should 
assume that important role at Lady Vail’s private the- 
atricals, and taking heed thereby not to suggest such a thing 
in the present instance. “Does anybody know of some 
competent pei’son who might be hired to come down from 
the London theaters and take the affair in hand? I, 
for one, shall make a dismal failure of Bella (the play 
chosen being Robertson’s delightful comedy of ‘School’), 
unless I am properly coached.” 

‘' And I shall be something dreadful as Naomi Tighe,” 
added Miss Ruthven, dolefully. 

“ Yes, and Mr. Krux in my hands promises to be some- 
thing wild and diabolical, unless I am inspired-~by some 
other fellow !” supplemented Sir Harry Charteris. “ Keith 
will pull through with Arthur Beaufoy in fine form, and 
so will Endy with Jack Poyntz. They’re both capital act- 
oi-s; but I’m awfully shaky about old Krux; he’s such a 
deuced old prig, don’t you know.” 

“Be yourself, Charty, and you’ll fill the chai-acter to 
the lifef” drawled Sir Charles Enderby, languidly. “As 
‘ a deuced old prig,’ j’ou’re a howling succe.ss already, old 
man, and you’ll out-coafch the coach himself, even if we’re 
fortunate enough to capture Irving. But. I say,” he 
added, after the laughter had subsided, “who are we to 
get, anyhow? I’m blessed if / know anybody.” 

“If you think me capable of fulfilling the demand, I 
shall only be too happy to volunteer!” responded, smil- 
ingly, Lady Blanche Haj’’, whereat everybody was filled 
with delight, and Miss Catheron so far forgot herself as to 
stare at the speaker in dumb amazement; but if she could 
have known Lady Blanche’s reasons for this extraordi- 
nary offer, her amazement would have given place to hor- 
ror, and the rest of this story would never have been writ- 
ten. 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


107 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

“snake, snake, come out of your hole!” 

Matters being thus adjusted, nothing remained but to 
dispatch a messenger to London to secure the play-books, 
and make the necessary purchase of lumber and canvas 
for the stage and scenery, and this charge Lord Glandore 
intrusted to the under steward, bidding him start by the 
very first train he could catch this evening, in order to be 
back with the play-books in time for to-morrow night’s 
rehearsal. 

“And kindly purchase one or two extra copies of the 
play, Mr. Sleaford, in case anybody should lose one, or 
I should mislay the copy I have for a ‘ prompt-book,’ ” 
suggested Lady Blanche, with apparent artlessness, and 
with a most deferential bow Mr. Sleaford promised to 
remember her Avords, and then hastily retreated from the 
room in order to make preparations for the journey, and 
to catch the 9.30 train for London. 

Naturally the play was the all-absorbing topic of con- 
versation, and Lady Blanche, who kept a close watch 
upon the clock, meanwhile, let it remain in that channel 
until nine silvery strokes pealed through the room and 
announced the arrival of the time for which she had so 
long waited. 

She had deftly contrived, as the minute hand ap- 
proached the time, to turn the conversation to the fourth 
act of the play, wherein occurs that daintily-sweet scene 
betAveen Lord Beaufoy and Bella, as they stroll off 
through the moonlight for the purpose of filling the 
“milk-pitcher,’’ and hoaa"^ as the silvery chimes pro- 
claimed the hour of nine: 

“Speaking of moonlight effects, let us study nature and 
gain some points thereby !” she tAvittered, in her blithe, 
bird-like Avay, as she arose and fluttered across the room 
to the terrace Avindows. “Oh, av hat a perfect night! If 
Ave could only counterfeit such a radiance as that Avith a 
lime-light and a reflector! Miss Catheron, Lord Keith, 
Sir Charles — everybody ! do come and see how magnificent 
it is. Really, Lord Keith, jmu and Miss Catheron could 
do the ‘ pitcher scene ’ to perfection upon the terrace if 
you only kneAv the lines. Do come and see how exquisite- 
ly beautiful the moonlight is.’’ 

She fluttered out through the open Avindow as she spoke 
and stood there bathed in the dazzling, steel-Avhite, steel- 
cold moonlight Avhen the others came out and joined her. 

Miss Catheron Avas the last to issue from the Avindow, 
and as the light fell full upon her— she wore to-night a 


THE KhXG'S DAUGHTERS. 


loS 

dainty costume of pale-green tulle with garnitures of 
leaves, grasses and white water-lilies — lier soft, diaphan- 
ous draperies seemed to wrap her in a mist as though she 
were a spirit, and with those white blossoms clinging 
about her, and the moonlight glinting on her golden liair, 
she was not unlike a picture of some fabled nymph just 
risen from the river to 

‘( * * * Sing to that white, radiant moon. 

And underneath those wistful, watching stars, 

That song whose liquid sweetness draws 
The souls of men to madness and to death.” 

“Hello! what's that?” exclaimed sharply Sir Harry 
Charteris, as Inez made her appearance. “ Seems to me I 
heard something very much like a muffled cry over there 
behind that clump of bushes. I wonder if there’s a poacher 
skulking about? Did anybody else hear it ?” 

“ I heard a bird pipe someivhere in the gardens; that is 
what you mean !” responded Lady Blanche, with a smile 
and a shrug of her white shoulders. “You are growing 
fanciful in your old age, mon ami, and too much talk of 
things theatrical has prepared you to discover skulking 
rufflans and ‘muffled cries’ everywhere!” 

“ It isn’t due to the effects of the play !” cut in Sir Charles 
Enderby. “ It’s the natural outcome of the four glasses 
of Aladeira he took as a settler after dinner. Better take 
warning in time, Charty, and reduce your potations— fel- 
low with a Aveak top-knot is apt to see no end of terrible 
things if he goes anything stronger than soda!” 

“Lud! Endy, Avhat a dog’s life you must lead, then,” 
retorted Sir Harry, Avith a grin. “Dickens’ ‘Haunted 
;^Ian ’ must have had a mild time of it compared Avith you, 
you poor beggar !’ ’ 

A general laugh resulted, and to Lady Blanche’s unspeak- 
able relief the subject of the muffled cry Avas not alluded 
to again. 

For some moments she succeeded in keeping the party 
there, discussing the beauties of the scene and the proba- 
bility of even faintly approaching a representation of its 
glories upon the mimic stage; then, Avith a faint shiver. 
Miss Catheron gave the signal for returning to the draAv- 
ing-room. 

“Let us go in,” she said; “the air is quite chilly out 
here.” 

“Yes, and you are A^ery thinly dressed, Inez,” supple- 
mented Miss Kuthven; Avhereupon Lady Blanche glanced 
at Miss Cathei-on’s gauzy raiment and appeared to be 
struck Avith a sudden thought. 

“Dear me! hoAv very thoughtless!” she exclaimed. 
“There’s that ‘point’ overdress Avhich I Avashed and 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


100 


mended for to morrow, and I hav'e forgotten to tell my 
maid about it. It was unfortunately torn the last time I 
wore it, and if I don’t get it out for that thoughtless ci’eat- 
ure to darn it will never be touched till doomsday. Pray 
excuse me if I run up-stairs and start her working upon it 
at once. * I will i-eturn to the drawing-room as soon as she 
has the mending started well enougli for me to be sure 
that she will not ruin the garment. The lace is an heir- 
loom — it formerly belonged to Lord Hay’s grandmother — 
and I prize it very highly!” 

Of course nobody offered the slightest objection to her 
ladj’ship’s departure upon such an errand, nor felt sur- 
prised at her concern regarding the skillfulness of the 
mending; for the old ‘‘family lace” of the Hays was as 
famous as their old family jewels, and both were held al- 
most priceless. 

So, without another word, my lady fluttered up-stairs to 
her own apartments, gave her maid orders not to stir out 
of the room until she (her ladyship) came back, enveloped 
her daint}^ costume in the folds of a long dai’k cloak, drew 
the frilled hood over her head, went down and out by the 
rear staircase and hurried around the outside of the build- 
ing until she reached the Oak Walk. 

At the spot where she had first encountered him, she 
found her father crouching under the trees and lookinj;: 
as though he had just experienced some awful shock, and 
pausing before him she looked triumphantly up into his 
almost colorless face. 

‘‘Well,” she said, with a smile of conscious power— 
“well, you have seen her, even though you did almost be- 
tray your presence by the way you cried out; and now tell 
me what you think of her resemblance toZillah, and of my 
suspicion regarding the cause of it?” 

“You Avere right, Maggie — right !” he gasped, in a hoarse 
voice of excitement. “Such a perfect likeness could not 
exist by any mere chance, and like you, I am convinced 
these girls are sisters. Merciful Heaven! a resem- 

blance. I could scarcely believe that it was not Zillah 
who stood before me, they are such perfect counterparts. 
Not alone their faces, but their very voices are the same!” 

My lady laughed one of her purring, cat-like laughs, 
and her hazel eyes glittered like gold-stones. 

“ Yes,” she said, in a thin, viperine voice; “and Avith a 
perfect sameness which shall avenge your Avrongs and 
satisfy my hate for Lord Alnric Keith!” 

“ What Avill you do, Maggie?’ ’ 

“Do!” — my lady came a step nearer as she spoke, her 
gemmed hand shut upon his arm, her sIoav, bleak la,ugh- 
ter jarred upon his ears, and her eyes seemed to scintillate 


no 


mE KIK&S DAUGHTERS. 


ill the darkness — “I will play a trick as old as the hills, 
but as potent to-day as it was "a thousand years ago; I will 
change the places of these two girls, I will make the heir- 
ess the outcast, and the outcast the heiress; I will force 
Lord Alaric Keith into marrying a gypsj^ a wandering 
vagabond gypsy, and when I have dragged his name 
through mud and mire, when I have heaped upon his head 
such infamy as only the malice of a scorned and revenge- 
ful woman can conceive, I will say to him: “My lord, this 
is my work, and you owe your disgrace to the hand of the 
woman whose love you spurned that night on the coast of 
Wales!” 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

MY lady’s little GAME. 

My lady’s voice, bitter and hard from the beginning, 
broke with a shrill, adder-like hiss, as she delivered herself 
of that infamous speech, and then silence fell. 

Fora moment Marco stood and looked at her, not evinc- 
ing quite as much delight in this prospect of reversing 
the positions of the two girls as her ladyship had, per- 
haps, anticipated, and certainly not showing upon his 
scowling face any such malicious rapture as fairly shone 
on hers ; then : 

“ It seems to me that you are bending all your energies 
to the purpose of ruining that man. and not of avenging 
my wrongs,” he said, sullenly. “It is the daughters of 
Kuigdon Catheron I am interested in ruining, not this 
Lord Keith, over whose possible disgrace you rave so con- 
stantly; and, if it’s all the same to you, I don’t see that 
your plan promises much in that line.” 

“Oh, you see nothing, nothing!” retorted her ladyship, 
sarcastically, giving her head a twitch indicative of” petu- 
lant scorn. “Do nothing towai-d avenging ?/OMr wrongs, 
indeed ! I tell you it promises you a richer revenge than 
you ever dreamed of in your wildest hate — misery, suffer- 
ing — a living hell for those jmu wish to smite!” 

“What! in the mere changing of Zillah’s position, and 
the defrauding of Lord Keith? Even if it Avere possible to 
manage such an affair, I don’t see how it Avill avenge my 
wrongs and your mother’s death!” 

“Not if Inez Catheron is carried over to France or Italy, 
thrust into some private madhouse, and I furnish the 
money to keep her there to the last hour of her life?” re- 
sponded her ladysliip, in a shrill whisper. 

“ Oho! that brings the smiles to your lips and the light 
to your eyes, does it? And you begin to realize at last, do 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. Ill 

5'0ii, what sort of vengeance a woman can plan when ha- 
tred spurs her wits?” 

” Good Heaven ! what a revenge— what a revenge!” he 
exclaimed, in a voice that thrilled with xinspeakable joy. 
“To be shut up in a madhouse vainly shrieking for help 
and dying bj’^ inches, as she slowly realizes that rescue can 
ne%^er reach her ! Oh, it would be worse a thousand-fold 
than the agony which drove your poor mother mad, my 
lass, and even she could ask no worse retaliation. But can 
it be done — can it, Maggie?” 

“Yes, with your assistance!” returned her ladj'ship. 
“ I will meet you at the cross roads to-morrow morning, 
in the neighborhood of eleven o’clock, and supply you with 
money to begin operations at once. First of all you must 
seek axi^find some private madhouse outside of England, 
where the proprietor can either be induced to accept money 
for taking charge of a sane woman, or can be gulled into be- 
lieving her a lunatic, whose mania takes the shape of be- 
lieving herself to be an English heiress who has been ab- 
ducted from home. 

“After those arrangements have been made you must 
find some one to assist you in her removal. Money will 
buy 3’ou such a confederate, for this is not work for Eo- 
manies, and no gypsy must be appealed to for aid. Three 
weeks from to-niglit, you and this, as yet, unknown con- 
federate must be at the east wicket of Glandore Court with 
a closed vehicle, and when Inez Catheron comes there ” 

“But iL'ill she come?” interrupted Marco, excitedly. 
“How can you arrange that, Maggie?” 

“Leave it to me. J will find a way to get her there, 
never fear; and when she does come you must be pre- 
pared to chloroform lier, get her into the vehicle, and be 
oif as speedily as possible. I should advise you to be well 
supplied with drugs, to prevent her reviving at some inop- 
portune moment, and, if possible, to keep her unconscious 
throughout the entire trip. Once in a maniac's cell, you 
have nothing more to dread,^ for there will be plenty of 
money supplied to keep her there. 

“ No search will be instituted, because her disappear- 
ance will not be suspected, and if some kindly-disposed 
person at the madhouse should even be officious enough 
to write to Glandore Court for the purpose of ascertaining 
if there be any gleam of truth in what she says about her 
name and abduction, the earl will indignantly deny it, 
and accepting Zillah for Inez, declare that his grand- 
daughter is still here.” 

“ By Heaven, it is glorious!” exclaimed Marco, delight- 
edly ; then, as another thought came, his face fell, and the 
look of rapture faded. 


112 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


“ But what of Zillah herself, Maggie?” he gloomily said. 
‘‘She is also Kingdoii Catheron’s daughter, recollect, and 
we must have vengeance upon both. It will be no hard- 
ship for her, if she is lifted out of poverty into wealth, and, 
in addition, married to a man she loves!” 

My lady laughed, and made a deriding gesture. 

“ Do you think I will spare her, when she is to be the 
instrument of my vengeance upon hinif" she answered. 
“That she will consent to the imposition, in the belief 
that by so doing she will save Lord Keith’s life, I am 
quite sure. I paved the way for that last night; and 
when she comes the night after to-morrow to keep her ap- 
pointment with me at the wicket, before she leaves it she 
will have given her consent to impersonate Inez Cath- 
eron; and from the hour she becomes Lord Keith’s bride, 
her life will be a hell. I have my own plans for her pun- 
ishment and his miseiy, and your fiery- tempered gypsy, 
jock, will play a leading part in the little tragedy I have 
devised. 

“ For the present, however, he must be kept in complete 
ignorance of the character she is going to assume, and it 
is absolutely necessary that not one of the Avhole tribe of 
gypsies shall know when, nor where, nor how she disap- 
peared ! She must simply pass out of their lives, and the 
tribe must leave Bracken Hollow the morning after she 
goes !” 

“ But such a thing is impossible, Maggie. You know 
how she is revered on account of the lies Taric and Star- 
light Bess told in regard to the supposed miracle of her 
soul’^s return after death,” interposed Marco. “ If she dis- 
appears, not alone the tribe with which she has been identi- 
fied, but the entire race of gypsies, will be up in arms upon 
the instant. A general alarm will be sent out, the descrip- 
tion of her appearance will be circulated everywhere, and 
a search instituted at once.” 

“That you must prevent, father,” returned Lady 
Blanche. 

“I? Impossible, child ! How could I do such a thing?” 

“ By using your wits from the moment you return to 
Bracken Hollow,” was the calm response. “Do you not 
remember what that woman — that Old Redempta — said 
last night, when you mentioned the loss of Zillah’s talis- 
man, the silver star? It was her opinion — so she said — 
that the star had not been lost, but had been taken from 
Zillah’s forehead by the hands of the spirits who are sup- 
posed to watch over her. To quote Old Redempta’s own 
woi’ds, she believed ‘ That it had been taken as a sign that 
those same spirits meant soon to i-ecall the girl herself, 
and take back her soul in the same mysterious manner 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


\V6 

in which they formerly replaced it in the body of the 
dead.’ 

“That belief you must begin to foster at once, until it 
becomes universal throughout the entire tribe; and on the 
night of Zillah’s disappearance, you must pretend to have 
seen her taken. I leave it to your own genius to draw a 
stirring picture of how you saw iier fade away before your 
very eyes, or watched her soaring up to the stars, or any 
other clap-trap yarn you choose to tell. It will be believed 
— have no fear of that — if you only take time by the fore- 
lock, and spread Old Redempta’s crazy prediction. But, 
hark! I hear the sound of voices. Some of Miss Cathe- 
ron’s guests have, doubtless, come out for a short stroll in 
the moonlight, and I must leave you at once. They believe 
me up-stairs with my maid, and it might, perhaps, be 
fatal to our plans if I were seen out' hei'e after that. 
Good night, father; remember all that I have told you, 
and be certain to meet me at the cross-roads at eleven 
o’clock to-morrow morning.” 

“ I’ll not fail you, never fear,” he answered. “Good- 
night, my lass, and good luck go Avith you.” 

Then with a simple wave of the hand, they glided out 
of the Oak Walk into the grove, and went their separate 
Avays. 


CHAPTER XXV. 

“the devil tempted me and I DID EAT.” 

“ ‘ Some day, some day. 

Some day I .'^hall meet you!’ ” 

Hummed, softly. Lady Blanche Hay, as she came tripping 
down-stairs, arrayed in a stinking dinner-dress of old rose 
f5ilk combined Avith sulphur-colored plush, and richly em- 
broidered in trailing sprays of white and yellow honey- 
suckle— a Worth creation Avhich had made a decided sen- 
sation in London Avheu my lady first wore it — and bearing 
in her small gloved hands a thin, paper covei’ed book, 
upon which the word “School ” Avas distinctly visible. 

The time Avas si.x o'clock in the evening — tAvo dajns after 
the incidents narrated in the preceding chapter — and my 
lady Avas popularly supposed to be, like the rest of the 
feminine element at Glandore Court, in the midst of her 
preparations for dinner instead of having reached their 
termination, for it was considerably less than half an hour 
since the tinkling of the dressing-bell had sent the ladies 
scurrying up stairs to give themselves into the hands of 
their maids; and as an hour and a half Avas usually the 
time spent in that way, my lady’s appearance produced a 
stare of astonishment upon the part of the gentlemen when 


114 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


she came fluttering out upon the great stone terrace where 
they were all clustei-ed, talking politics and discussing a 
last cigar before dawdling up stairs to begin their own 
quickly executed toilets. 

“Well, by George! what’s going to happen?” ex- 
claimed, laughingly. Sir Harry Charteris. as her ladyship 
made lier appearance, book in hand, and with a long, 
hooded gray cloak thrown over her arm. “ Talk of elec- 
tricity and all that— why, they’re snail’s capers compared 
to your rate of speed. Lady Blanche, and if the millennium 
isn’t due this evening, then at must be blessed near at 
hand, for this is certainly an evidence that the world has 
advanced to a state whoi*e its destruction is inevitable!” 

“ Meaning that a woman who makes a diniaer toilet in 
pi-eci.sely twenty-four minutes is the last sti'aw which 
breaks the back of Heaven’s forbeai'ance. Sir Hari*y?” 
smiled her ladyship, sweetly. “Ah, well, 1 have only ex- 
emplified what you ‘ male monstei’s ’ have beeaa aware of 
for many a day; that woman is a very uni’eliable article 
and sometimes a very deceptive one. Deceptive, because 
she takes ninety minutes every day in the week to do 
what I have shown you can be done in less than one-thii-d 
of that time!” 

“And done chai’iningly at that, I assui’e you. Lady 
Blanche,” interpolated the old eaa*l, “most charmingly, 
indeed — eh, Keith?” 

“ Very !” assented Lord Keith, gi*aciousl 5 '. “But then 
to look charming upoia all occasions has been a trick of 
Lady Blanche’s all her life long.” 

“ ‘Oh, ye men — ye flattei'ei’s, that buzz and drip honey 
like a bui’dened bee!’ ” quoted Lady Blanche, gaylj*. “■! 
shall either have an exaggei’ated opinion of myself, or p, 
most deploi’able one of the a*est of my sex, if I stay hei*e 
and listen to any naoi*e of your nonsense, and as I wish to 
escape both, permit me to beat a hasty retreat. Sir 
Charles, as you ai*e the only one who has not wounded 
mine eai’s Avith woixls of ‘ ci’uel kindness,’ I accord you 
the post of honor. Pray assist me in donning this cloak, 
and you, Lord Keith, as the greatest flatterer of them all, 
please hold this play-book, wliile I ari’ange myself for my 
visit to the sumnaer-house beside the mere.” 

“ Sui’ely you ai’e not going to leave us so soon!” ex- 
claimed Lord Keith, as Sir Charles Enderby hastened to 
obey the injunction, and my lady, arranging her elabo- 
I’ate toilet so that it would not suffer by coming in con- 
tact with the earth, proceeded to slip into the cloak and 
draw its frilled hood over her dark hair. “And, worse 
than leaving us, go for a walk to the mei’e in that cos- 
tume?” 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


115 


“ Whj^ not?’’ she answered, gayly, as she took the pla\'- 
book from him. “ Do you not see that I have donned my 
walking-boots instead of my slippers? I dressed hastily 
for tlie express purpose of having an hour to myself be- 
fore dinner.” 

‘‘Which means that we all bore you so dreadfully that 
you are eager to get ‘ far from the madding crowd ’ for at 
least sixty minutes?” 

“On the contraiy, it means that I am not on pleasure 
bent, but upon duty,” returned her ladyship, smilingly, 
as she arranged the folds of her cloak so that it com- 
pletely hid her charming costume. 

“ I think that we do not get tlie stage ‘ business ’ of the 
first act quite correctly. Lord Keith. At our first rehearsal 
last evening, the grouping was wretched, and the end of 
the act — where the schoolgirls all march away and leave 
Jack Poyntz and Lord Beaufoy, you know — it seemed to 
me that we bungled the business terribly; so I’m just 
going down to the summer-house, where it is all nice and 
quiet, and there I shall I’ead the first act over carefully 
and see if I can’t discover where the difficulty lies and 
how to overcome it smoothl.y. I have my pencil and some 
slips of paper, you see, so that I may jot down the ideas 
as they come to me; and as I shall require perfect quiet to 
collect my thoughts, woe to the man who dares to appi’oacli 
or disturb me for the next hour. Until then, allons, mes- 
sieurs, I remain invisible!” 

Then, with a sweet, soft laugh, and a graceful move- 
ment of her head, she glided by them, tripped down the 
steps of the terrace, and fluttered out of sight down the 
winding, wooded walk which led to the mere of Glandore, 

But while the mere and the summer-house were cer- 
tainly the Mecca of my lady’s twilight pilgrimage, just as 
certainly the stage business of the comedy — which they 
had rehearsed last night with more success than usually 
attends the first rehearsal of amateur theatricals — had 
nothing whatsoever to do with it, for, once out of siglit 
and sound of the party on the terrace, she crumpled up 
the slips of paper to which she had called Lord Keith’s 
attention, threw them into the thickest part of the shrub- 
bery, slid her tiny golden pencil into her pocket, and 
glanced sharply about her— to make sure that no one had 
witnessed her actions — before she resumed her journey, 

She was in excellent temper this evening, for eveTything 
had thus far progressed as she wished, and her scheme of 
vengeance Avas already in working order. 

True to her agreement, she had met her father at the 
cro.ss- roads yesterday morning, and supplied him with the 
necessary funds for beginning his rascally operations 


116 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


against Inez Catheron; had heard with delight that he 
had already begun to foster among the gypsies the belief 
which Old Redempta had first expressed regarding the lost 
talisman, and the ultimate disappearance of Zillah, and 
her journey to the mere this evening, was in direct con- 
nection therewith. 

It lay, this mere toward wliich she was hastening, with- 
in a stone’s throw of the east wicket, and at least an eighth 
of a mile removed from the mansion itself — abroad, beau- 
tiful sheet of water, where swans swam among the matted 
pond lilies, and tall trees shaded the romantic walk which 
i-an along its brim, a dense growth of rhododendrons shut- 
ting it in with a wall of foliage and flowers, and cluster- 
ing thickest about a rustic summer house which stood 
upon the very verge of the picturesque sylvan lake. 

Toward this summer-house my lady now bent her steps, 
as she made her way into the rustic walk which we have 
described, and, pausing as she reached it to take one last 
cautious look about her. she brushed aside the shrubbery 
which clustered about the entrance, glided in, and found 
herself in the the presence of a veiled figure, which arose 
as she entered, and, removing the double fold of gauze 
which screened her features, revealed the face of Zillah. 

“You are an excellent trystor, my dear,” twittered 
Lady Blanche, as slie dropped a cool kiss upon the girl’s 
pale cheek, and then softly drew her down upon a rustic 
seat beside hei-self. “Then my father did not fail in his 
promise to tell you of the change which I was obliged 
to make in the time and place of our appointment?” 

‘‘Yes, Marco told me!” responded Zillah, with a faint 
smile. “He said that unforseen circumstances would 
prevent your coming to meet me at the east wicket to- 
night at nine o’clock, as you had previously arranged, 
and that, instead, I was to steal into the grounds and 
come to this'pla(;e at six, and, moreover, I must use extra 
precaution to keep my face concealed from all but the 
members of our tribe.” 

‘‘And so you must, my dear,” returned her ladyship, 
with great earnestness. “ The success of my plan to save 
the life of the man you love, and prevent him falling a 
victim to Romany vengeance depejids upon that, Zillah. 
Be careful— be very careful— that no one about this place 
ever catches a glimpse of your face, my dear; and now ” 
—as she produced the play-book which she had brought 
with her—” let me explain“to you what I desire you to do, 
and give you a few instructions in an art of which I fear 
you know but little.” 

” But— but you told me I was to come here and learn 
howl could save Lord Keith’s life, Lady Blanche!” ex- 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


11 '? 


claimed Zillah, in a troubled voice. “ Pray do not torture 
me by speaking of anything else at present. I have been 
suffering untold agonies since the night you told me of his 
danger, and I wish to know — oh, I viust know — how I can 
save him and win from him the love which you told me 
was possible for such a nameless outcast to obtain !” 

“ So you shall, my dear,” smiled Lady Blanche, caress- 
ing the girl’s golden head, and looking tenderly into her 
beauiiful, solemn eyes. “What I wish to speak of now is 
merely a preface to what you are so anxious to hear, and 
in due time I ivill reach that mox*e important part. As 
my father tells me, the miracle of your birth — or rather 
your second birth, dear— has gained for you advantages 
which you could never have obtained otherwise. That is 
to say, you have been Avell educated — not brilliantly, of 
course— but very well, indeed.” , 

“ Yes, I have had tutors — if that is what you mean — but 
they were never permitted to look upon the face of their 
pupil,” admitted Zillah. “ I have no reason to complain 
of what my people have done for me. Lady Blanche. It is 
they Avho should do that ; for the more I have learned the 
more it has taught me to become skeptical regarding the 
supposed miracle of my birth. It seems so absurd, so very 
unnatural, that ” 

“We will not discuss that part of the subject,” inter- 
rupted her ladyship, with a smile and a gentle gesture of 
dissent. “So long as you have been educated enough to 
fit you for the work you have to do in the future, it mat- 
ters not why nor how it was done, my dear. You have 
never, of course, seen a play performed upon the stage, 
but you have intelligence enough to understand what you 
read, and I wish you to memorize carefully the character 
of Bella in this one, and be prepared to play it at a mo- 
ment’s notice. The necessary instructions i-egarding what 
you are to do— it is called ‘ the business ’ in theatrical par- 
lance, my dear — I will give you in private, here in this 
summer house, at such times as can be conveniently ar- 
ranged between us. I wish you to have the part learned 
perfectly before a fortnight passes. You can do that, I 
presume?” 

“Yes, I can do that,” returned Zillah, as she took the 
book. “ But when am I to play this part, and where. 
Lady Blanche?” 

“ You are to play it here at Glandore Court two weeks 
from to- morrow night.” 

“ Here, Lady Blanche?” — in amazement. 

“ Even hei-e, my dear; and, moreover, the part of Lord 
Beaufoy— your lover in the play— is to be assumed by 
Lord Alaric Keith!” 


118 


THE KhXG^S DAUGHTERS. 


*' Loi-d Keith!” replied Zillah, her eyef? lighting, and her 
whole face becoming i-adiant with happiness. “ Oh, Lady 
Blanch, shall I, indeed, meet him and talk with him — and 
before everybody? Oli, it cannot be possible! The Earl 
of Glandore" is so bitterly, opposed to gypsies that he will 
not permit me to cross his threshold, and, as for Lord Keith, 
ah ! I am very sure that he will not consent to this arrange- 
ment; and, if he knows ” 

” He will not know— he will never know!” cut in Lady 
Blanche, sharply. “He will believe that you are Miss 
Catheron, and not Zillah, the gypsy — they will all believe 
that you are the heire.ss, instead of the outcast jmu really 
are, and the deception you practice that night you will 
continue to practice to the end of your life!” 

“You mean,” gasped Zillah, growing very pale — “oh. 
Lady Blanche, -you mean that I am to ti-ade upon my re- 
semblance to Miss Catheron, and— and cheat her out of 
her rights? ’ 

“ I mean that yon are to become a rich woman— a happy 
woman, respected b}^ those who now shrink from all of 
your race and class— idolized by Lord Glandore, petted by 
the Countess of Elsdale, and worshiped to the end of 
your days by Lord Alaric Keith !” responded her ladyship, 
eagerly. 

“ Here!” she added, hastily, as she I'emoved her cloak, 
and rising, revealed herself in all thesumptuousne.ssof her 
charming dinner costume. “How would you like to dress 
like tliis all the days of your life, my dear, instead of in 
those dingy garments you now wear? How would you 
like to have diamonds as superb as these? A hundred 
gowns to choose from, a hundred times a hundred pounds 
to spend on jewels, laces, flowers, ribbons, and the thou- 
sand articles of adornment we women love? How would 
you like to give up the forest for a home like this? Your 
gj’psy tent for a boudoir, with walls of fluted silk, your 
bed of straw for a couch of down, curtained with hang- 
ings of rich brocade? How would you like to have men 
marveling over your beauty and your enormous wealth, 
women going mad with envy over your jewels and dresses, 
and, sweetest of all, Lord Keith’s eyes lighting with pleas- 
ure every time you approach, or people comment upon the 
loveliness of his thrice blessed wife?” 

“ Oh, my lady ! oh, my lady !” gasped Zillah, clapping her 
hands and flushing with ecstasy. “ Can you ask me such 
a think? Ah, it would be a perfect heaven, and life one 
string of endless joys But” — with sudden mournful- 
ness— “ I should be foi-ever haunted by the fear of the 
fraud being discovered, forever reproaclied by my con- 
science for having wronged a woman who never harmed 


THE KINHS DAUGHTERS. 


119 


me in my life, for having cheated her of her fortune, her 
husband, and her home!” 

“Nay,” responded Lad\^ Blanche, excitedly. ‘‘Say, 
rather, that you would be forever ble.ssed by the knowl- 
edge that you had made happy the man you lov'ed, and 
in doing it, saved his life. Listen, Zillah! The weddingof 
Lord Keith and Inez Catheron is set for the tenth of Au- 
gust, and if you do not love him well enough to save him 
before that day comes around, his life must pay the for- 
feit of his union with Inez Catheron, and both will fall vic- 
tims to gypsy vengeance before the honeymoon has waned. 
You cannot save Inez Catheron from her impending doom 
— it is as fixed as fate itself. But you can save Lord Keith 
by this act of deception, and he will never know the dif- 
ference — never know but that he has married Miss Cath- 
eron, the heiress; and, believing that you are she, lavish 
upon you the love for which you now so vainly long.” 

“Oh! do not tempt me — do not tempt me,” interposed 
Zillah, feebly. “ I am very weak, Lady Blanche, and it is 
heaven which you hold out to me — heaven!” 

“ Then why not seize it, Zillah? Why not bless him and 
bless yourself? Why not become rich, honored, and loved, 
where you are now poor, despised, forlorn? Child, it is 
for your own good I speak — because you are a Romany, 
and “one of my people, dear; and be'cause, respecting the 
man jmu love, I would save him, if J can, from a fate he 
does not merit. But Inez Catheron you cannot save; she 
falls whether you consent to this or not. So that in sav- 
ing Lord Keitli and making both him and yourself happy, 
you wrong no one upon this earth. Ah ! say that you 
consent — say that you consent.” 

“But my people?— the people of my tribe!” interposed 
the girl, feebly. “Oh, Lady Blanche, will they not learn 
of this deception? Will they not search for me when I 
disappear?” 

“No; Marco, who knows of my plans, has promised 
that the tribe shall leave this neighborhood directly you 
forsake it, and he will arrange matters so that your disap- 
pearance will be satisfactorily accounted for,” returned 
Lady Blanche; then giving the girl a sketchy account of 
her plans in relation to Old Redempta’s prophecy regard- 
ing the lost talisman, she pressed her anew to consent to 
the conspiracy. 

Bit by bit the girl’s unwillingness gave way before my 
lady’s crafty arguments and honeyed words, one by one her 
fears were beaten down, and her hopes built up, uittil with 
one great sob of utter happiness: 

“ Say no more. Lady Blanche— say no more, I consent!” 
she uttered faintly. ‘“To save him I am willing to do any- 


120 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


thing, but in addition to that, to win his love and become 
his wife. Ah, Heaven were surely less beautiful than my 
life will be after that!” 

My lady smiled — a perfect smile of satisfaction — as she 
took her in her arms and kissed her, and for some mo- 
ments there was complete silence, while the tempted lay 
Avith her face hidden upon the shoulder of the tempter— 
too foolishly happy to do aught but dream of that beauti- 
fully pictured future. 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

‘‘marry! but here’s a vixen.” 

“You have chosen well, Zillah — very well, my dear,” 
murmured Lady Blanche, after a pause, as she gently 
raised the girl’s drooping head, and, taking her face be- 
tween her palms, smiled sweetly into it. “Why, you 
are fairly radiant, my daiding, and who could doubt the 
blissfulness of your future when you love Lord Keith like 
this?” 

“ But if he should discover the truth some time. Lady 
Blanclie? If I should make some foolish blunder?” 

“ I will take measures to prevent sucl^ a thing as that,” 
returned her ladyship; and, in order that I may be al- 
ways near you, to prompt you if your memory fails, 
and advise you until you become accustomed to your 
new’ position, you must invite me to become your guest 
for a year or two, and appear to conceive a great liking 
for me.” 

“Indeed, I shall not have to appear to do that,” re- 
sponded Zillah, with a frank, sweet smile; “for I shall 
-only have to remember that all the happiness I shall 
ever know in this -world has come to me througli you, dear 
Lady Blanche, and I shall love you and be grateful to you 
ahvays.” 

“ I hope so, my dear,” twittered her ladyship, dropping 
another Judas-like kiss upon the beautiful face of her 
unconscious dupe. “ And now% as I shall have to hasten 
back to the house, we will have to part, my dear. Take 
the play-book and study your part carefully, then come 
daily to the east wicket— but ahvays closely veiled, re- 
member— and w'henever you find a bit of ribbon hanging 
upon the gate-post, go into the woods and wmit tliere until 
I come to instruct you in your dual role of actress and 
future heiress. 

“ When next I meet you I wdll bring you a list contain- 
ing the names, and a full description of all the guests and 
servants at the Court, so that you can study them and 
make no blunder in that direction. Now, then, pull down 


THE KINHS DAUGHTERS. 


121 


your veil, dear, and steal back to Bracken Hollow as fast 
as you can, and, if it is possible for me to meet you to- 
morrow, I will do so. Good bye, my darling; no longer 
Zillah the outcast, but Inez Catheron, the heiress, and 
Lady Keith that is to be.” 

“Good-bye,” answered the girl, with a sob of utter 
happiness. “ Good-bye, and God bless you. Lady Blanche. 
Only Heaven knows how much I shall owe to you.” 

Then deftly parting the shrubbery and waving her 
small, ringless hand, she darted off and vanished among 
the trees. 

My lady stood and looked after her for a moment, her 
pretty face alight with smiles, her hazel eyes glistening; 
then with a sleek, low laugh, she readjusted her cloak and 
softly left the summer-house. 

That night, when the comedy was rehearsed in the pict- 
ure-gallery, it was evident to all the gentlemen that my 
lady’s visit to the summer-house had resulted favorably in 
regard to the business of the play, for everything ran along 
as smoothly as could be desired, and the troublesome “ an- 
imated tableau ” at the close of the first act was arranged 
so gracefulh' that the actors themselves accorded her lady- 
ship a burst of hearty applause. 

From that time to the close of the rehearsals, matters 
kept growing better and better; for, whenever my lady 
detected any trifling error, somebody was sure to suggest 
a visit to the summer-house by the mere. My lady was 
just as sure to act upon the suggestion, and always, when 
she came back from these afternoon trips, the difficulty 
ceased to exist. 

So the days came and went, and the night set for the 
performance kept drawing nearei’. 

The invitations had long been sent out to the resident 
gently, and all concerned, actors and prospective auditors 
alike, were in a state of blissful excitement as the date of 
the auspicious event approached. 

Everything had been placed in Lady Blanche’s hands, 
even to the ordering of the costumes, which, upon ar- 
rival were carried to her rooms for inspection before 
they were accepted and distributed to those who were to 
Avear them, and if there Avas a duplicate of one particular 
dress Avhich had been ordered for Bella, nobody knew it 
but my lady, and instead of complaining to the costumer, 
she pjiid him for the duplicate out of her private purse, 
and then stowed the costume aAvay in the back of her 
Avardrobe. 

But this Avas not the only act of my lady’s of Avhich no 
one at Glandore Court had the slightest inkling, for there 
Avere many afternoons spent in the Leith Avoods, coaching 


THE KING^S daughters. 


Zillah, and there was one hour spent in Bracken Hollow, 
in the dead of the night, making arrangements with 
Marco, Avho had returned, successful, from his efforts to 
secure assistance, etc., in the performance of my lady’s 
inhuman scheme in regard to Inez Catheron, and also in 
arranging with Zillah to be at a certain spot near the 
doorway of the wing staircase at a certain hour upon the 
night of the private theatricals. 

So matters progressed upon all sides, without a hitch or 
a blunder, until the day, big with fate, came around, and 
then— deplorable mishap — my lady met with a “ severe in- 
jury.” 

Nobody seemed to know just how it happened, but my 
lady’s dear little right hand was hui’t by one of those big 
blundering carpenters, and she had to bandage it and 
carry it in a sling; and Lord Glandore swore that he would 
dismiss the blundering idiot and send him flying back to 
London if her ladyship would only point him out. 

But her ladyship couldn’t do it — “she really wasn’t 
aware which man it Avas, etc. ; and as it was quite acci- 
dental, she prefei'red not to say anything about it;” so, of 
course, the matter wes dropped; and although everj'body 
knew it must be terribly painful and badly bruised (for 
she kept it entirely hidden), my lady was as gay and 
happy as ever, and went on preparing for the entertain- 
ment with the same sweet smile of yesterday. 

Of course it was inconvenient, too; but then my lady 
knew her game, and didn’t show what difficulty it cost 
her until four o’clock in the afternoon. 

At that hour all the other ladies were in their separate 
apartments enjoying a siesta, against the extra exertion 
of the coming evening. But Lady Blanche, indefatigable 
little Avorker— was still on business bent, and finding Lord 
Keith smoking in solitary state amongst the roses, flut- 
tered up to him, looking dreadfully nervous and very 
much excited. 

“ Oh, Lord Keith, I am in such trouble!” she exclaimed, 
in apparent agitation. “I have just received a letter 
containing very bad news ’’—this Avith a pretty trick of 
seeming confusion — “the ‘somebody’ of whose exist- 
ance I spoke Avhen I told you hoAV I had lived to thank 
you, for that miserable Welch experience, is deeply con- 
cerned. 

“He— he will be here this evening among the guests, 
and I wish to send him a note the instant he arrives. 
But this Avretched injury of my hand renders it impossi- 
ble for me to write a word, so I have come to you to ask 
you if you Avill consent to do me a great favor. I have 
told no one of my engagement but you, and as I do not 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


123 


care to admit any one else to my confidence, I thought, I 
hoped, that is, I wished to ,ask if you would write the 
letter for me?” 

‘‘ Why, certainly. Lady Blanche. Nothing would af- 
ford me greater pleasure than to be of service to you!” 
returned his lordship, as he tossed away his cigar. 
“ Shall we go into the library?” 

“If you would be so kind,” smiled her ladyship. 
Wxnting materials are always to be found there; and, be- 
sides, it is probably \'acant at this hour, so that I can 
dictate the letter without fear of listeners. Since you are 
aware of the true state of affairs, I need not feel embar- 
rassed by what I have to say.” 

“ ‘ If it were done, when ’tis done, then ’twere well it 
were done quickly!’ ” quoted his lordship with a smile; 
then leading the way to the library, he seated himself be- 
fore the desk set apart for the use of the guests, and tak- 
ing some sheets of paper from a pigeon-hole, announced 
himself ready to begin. 

My lady closed the door, and walking to the desk, 
stood up behind his chair — as though embarrassed by the 
situation — and in a wavering voice slowly dictated the 
following : 

” My Darling, — When this is handed to you, excuse 
yourself — no matter how urgent the matter which detains 
you— and come to me at once. Dearest, I have this in- 
stant received some terrible news, which must delay, and 
may forever prevent the possibility of our marriage. It 
all rests with you, my darling; but I cannot go on with 
the play, nor give it my attention, until I have seen and 
spoken with you. I sliall await you under the rhododen- 
drons at the east wicket, and if you love me, come there 
the very instant you receive this. I shall detain yon but 
a few minutes, yet upon those minutes hangs the whole 
future of our two lives. 

‘‘Your devoted but distracted 

‘‘ Blanche.” 

Word for word, as it fell from my lady’s lips. Lord 
Keith wrote that letter, and then passed it to her for in- 
spection. 

“ Thank you— oh, thank you ever so much,” she said, 
earnestly. ‘‘ You have helped me over a great difficulty. 
Lord Keith, and I cannot express to you how grateful I 
am.” 

‘‘Pray do not try, then,” he answered, with a smile, as 
he pushed back his chair and arose. ‘‘Can I do nothing 
more for you, Lady Blanche?’’ 

*‘ Nothing, thank you; this is all I require,” 


134 


THE KINHS DAUGHTERS, 


His lordship bowed courteously and retired from the 
room, but scarcely had the door closed upon him ere my 
lady performed a delighted double shuffle, wliich pro- 
claimed what an adept she had been in her old theatrical 
davs. . 

‘ ‘ I have you— I have you on the hip, my Lord Alaric 
Keith!” she exclaimed, in a suppressed voice of exultation, 
then, with liglitning-like rapidity, her ” poor wounded 
hand” came out of its sling, and she fell to tearing open 
the blank envelope in which his lordship had sealed that 
urgent message. 


CHAPTER XXVH. 

THE TIGHTENING SNARE. 

It occupied but a moment of time to bring it again into 
view, then, hastily cramming the torn envelope into her 
pocket, my lady unfolded the letter itself, spread it out flab 
upon the desk, and, taking up the ink-bottle, spilled a por- 
tion of its contents over the signature ” Blanche,” and a 
portion of the word preceding it. 

She allowed the little pool of ink to lie there a moment, 
until it h id soaked into the word, then she raised the sheet, 
let the ink trickle off into the waste-basket, then ran the 
■'blotter over the written page, and, when she again inspect- 
ed it, the signature was entirely obliterated. 

“Written "in great haste, and the ink bottle overturned, 
in the excitement of a half-distracted man!” she laughed, 
as she. carefully dried the letter by. waving it to and fro, 
and then fell to covering the ink-spotted papers in the 
waste- basket by tucking them under the unsoiled scraps. 
“The letter is unsigned, but the writing is yours. Lord 
Keith; it is addressed, ‘ My Darling,’ and you have but one. 
It will work, my lord; it will work to a charm, and, when 
you have for a wife a woman whose secret is in my hands, 
you will know what it costs to make an enemy of me!” 

Speaking, she folded the now dry letter, slid it into an- 
other envelope, and without sealing it thrust it into her 
pocket and silently left the room. 

* * =|C * >|< * 

It was eight by all the clocks and watches at Glan- 
dore— eight o’clock, and the night and the hour were 
here. 

Befoi*e and behind the crimson curtain of the mimic 
stage all was bustle and confusion. 

An orchestra of twenty pieces was discoursing a brill- 
iant overture to the play — and giving evidence of what 
good things it could discoui-se for the dance which was to 
follow the comedy— in the closely arranged seats was 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


125 


packed an expectant assemblage, rustling satin pi*o- 
gramnies and chatting merrily as it waited for an oppor- 
tunity to fix its four hundred eyes upon the mysteries 
which as yet lay hidden by that red silk curtain, and 
everywhere there was the flasli of bright jewels, the gleam 
of gay toilets, the sunshine of smiles, and tlie evidence of 
universal pleasure. 

Behind the scenes my lady reigned supreme, darting 
with a suggestion to the stage carpenters here, a gracious 
appeal to the gasman’s assistance there, and a timely 
word to each and every one of the amateur actors wher- 
ever encountered. 

“ My dear Miss Euthven, you make a charming Naomi,” 
she twittered, in her blithe, bird-like way. ” But had you 
not better darken your complexion just a trifle more— 
Naomi Tighe is an East Indian heiress according to the 
author, and the East Indians are usually somewhat 
swarthy. Dear Lady Elsdale, you are Miss Sutcliffe to the 
life. I am delighted — delighted with you all. You are a 
perfect embodiment of Beaufoy, Lord Keith, but where in 
the world is your beloved Bella? 

“Ah, here she is!”— as Inez, in the simple costume of 
the heroine, came tripping from the “ wings,” and exposed 
herself to the full glare of the “ border lights.” “ Do let 
me have a look at you. Miss Catheron. How well that 
simple gown becomes you, to be sure! I predicted that 
you would be an ideal Bella, and you are fulfilling the pre- 
diction splendidly. But, good gracious, my dear ” — as her 
eye fell upon the gleaming betrothal ring which glittered 
upon Miss Catheron’s white hand— “you must certainly 
remove that jewel to be in keeping with the character. 
Recollect that Bella is a charity scholar, dependent upon 
the bounty of the good doctor and Mrs. Sutcliffe, and she 
would scarcely be possessed of such a superb jewel as that. 
Give it to me, my dear, and I will keep it for you until 
after the performance. ” 

Mi.ss Catheron colored faintly and glanced at Lord 
Keith. 

“ I do not like to remove it,” she said confusecBy. “ I 
wish to wear it from the moment it was placed ifpon my 
finger until the day of my death. I am sorry now that I 
assumed the character of Bella; I should not have done so 
had I known this. Perhaps I could cover it some way. 
Lady Blanche?” 

“ Oh, dear, no; don’t think of such a thing;” responded 
her ladyship. “ But if you are superstitious regarding its 
i-emoval, let Lord Keith take it off, and put it on again at 
the end of the play.” 

“ Aud give again the pledge I gave with it at first, my 


126 


T^^E KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


darling,” softly murmured his lordship, as he took her 
white hand, and slowly drew off the betrothal ring. 
“ What can it matter, Inez, when our happiness is already 
assured?” 

“I do not know— I cannot tell!” she answered, faintly. 
“Call me superstitious, if you will, Alaric, but I feel that 
the removal of a betrothal ring is unlucky; and if I had 
thought of this I would have declined to play the part of 
Bella.” 

“Not my Bella, I hope?” he softly whispered; and 
leaving them thus my lady suddenly bethought (?) herself 
that she had left the“ prompt-book in her oavu i-oom, and, 
ignoring the presence of her maid, excused herself for a 
moment and darted away. 

But not to her room at first. Reaching the upper corri- 
dor, now deserted, for all were busy below, she darted to 
the wing-staircase, ran fleetly down, unlocked the door, 
and called: 

“Zillah!” 

The gypsy glided from the shadow of the shrubbery and 
joined her on the threshold, then -with a word of caution, 
my lady drew her into the passage, locked the door and 
beckoning her to follow, led the way to her own room, 
then hastily drawing from the wardrobe the duplicate of 
Inez Catheron’s costume, she tossed it to her. 

“ Lock the door and dress yourself :is quickly as possi- 
ble!” she whispered, hurriedly. “When you hear the 
orchestra cease playing the interlude between tlie first and 
second acts, come out and descend the staircase on the left 
of the corridor outside. Remember! the left !" 

“I w'ill remember. Lady Blanche,” responded Zillah, 
faintly. “But, oh, I— I am so troubled— so nervous. I 
am afraid I am doing wrong to aid in this deception, and 
if evil should come of it ” 

“ Evil cannot come of it — it is all good, all good !” inter- 
rupted Lady Blanche with a laugh, then, fluttering out of 
the room she closed the door behind her, took the prompt- 
book from her pocket, and ran fleetly back to the stage. 

“ Places, places!” she called out excitedly, as the over- 
ture ceased, and an expectant hush fell over the assembled 
auditors. “ Turn up the gas, if you please, Mr. Limelight. 
There, that will do. Every body ready to begin?” 

For a second her eager eyes swept the stage, as if to be 
sure that all was as it should be, there was a momentary 
hush, then the sharp tinkling of a bell, the red silk cur- 
tain rolled softly up, and the private theatricals began. 


THE KIK&S DAUGHTERS. 


121 


[CHAPTER XXVIII. 

“to be or not to be?” 

From the moment the curtain rolled up and revealed 
all the schoolgirls clustered about Bella, and listening in- 
tently while she read to them the story of Cinderella, 
everybody knew that the performance was going to be a 
success. 

“ A hit! a palpable hit!” exclaimed Sir Harry Chnrteris, 
as he came off the stage and encountered her ladyship 
standing in the wings with the prompt-book in her hand, 
and her pretty face aglow with excitement. “You’ve 
made the thing a howling success. Lady Blanche, and 
everybody’s amazed over it — eveiwbody ‘ in front, ’ I mean. 
I .suppose we ought to ‘talk shop,’ since you’ve made the 
affair on a footing with a professional performance.” 

“Have I?” smiled her ladyship, lifting her bright hazel 
eyes, and acknowledging the compliment with a smile. 
“ ‘ I do protest; this honor is too great.’ /haven’t made 
it; I have only assisted. I couldn’t make you act, you 
know, had you all been sticks. I have only developed a 
lot of really clever people who didn’t know what they 
could do until now; and if the result pleases our friends, I 
am sure I am more than satisfied.” 

“ Pleases them ! Why, it has simply staggered them,” 
responded Sir Harry. “Chris Newall just peeped in a 
moment ago, and told me that he considered it better than 
anything he ever saw at the Lyceum; and, as for Lady 
Clavering — lud! she’s so green with envy that her face 
looks like a spring pippin. The Clavering theatricals have 
carried the lead for two seasons, you know, but we out- 
distanced them so badly that her ladyship looks fit to 
burst with mortification.” 

Her ladyship laughed good humoredly as he dawdled 
away, and, turning to Lord Keith, who was standing near 
by, begged him— for her “injured” hand was still 
wrapped in a silken bandage— to find the place for her. 

“You seem in excellent spirits to-night. Lady Blanche,” 
he smiled, as he flirted over the leaves of the prompt-book, 
and. having found the proper place, passed it back to her, 
with a deferential bow. “ That argues well for the issue 
of your fears this afternoon. Would it be presuming too 
much should I ask if I have been a success as an amanu- 
ensis.” 

Her radiant face told him. as she lifted it, that she did 
?io/ regard the question as presumptuous. 

“You have been a pei'fect success. Lord Keith!” she 
answered, with marked emphasis upon the adjective. 


128 


THE KINHS DAUGHTERS. 


“Knowing what threatened me, do you fancy I would be 
like this to-night if all had not gone well? I think you 
must be a good genius. At any rate you are a lucky 
amanuensis, and I must congratulate myself for having 
engaged your services.” 

“I am glad of it,” he smiled in return. “If ill fortune 
threatens you again, you will know where to turn. Em- 
ploy me as often as you wish— I am at your service always.” 

“You are very kind. I shall remember that!” twit- 
tered her ladyship, gayly, her hand involuntarily seeking 
the pocket where the blotted letter lay. “ How smoothly 
our performance progresses, does it not? and how capitally 
Miss Catheron plays Bella.” 

Lord Keith glanced across the stage at his betrothed, 
and his eyes assumed a tenderer look as thej^ rested upon 
the beautiful face. 

“She is a trifle nervous, I fancy — or shall I say a trifle 
mournful?” he said. “ The removal of the ring seems to 
have impressed her somewhat sadly !” 

“ And thereby lent to her face and mien that which is 
making her performance such a decided success,” respond- 
ed Lady Blanche. “A mournful meekness is exactly 
suited to the character of Bella, and who knows but we 
may owe the success of the night to the very thing Miss 
Catheron deplores? But mercy! there is your cue. Lord 
Keith! Hurry! hurry! We miistn’t have a stage wait 
for worlds. I do want this act' to end nicely !” 

His lordship bounded away as she spoke, and in another 
second was upon the stage. 

In breathless delight she watched the progress of the 
scene between Beaufoy and Poyntz and Beau Farintosh; 
in rapturous excitement she heard the cue given for the 
schoolgirls to reappear ; heai’d them singing the “home- 
going song”: saw them file across the stage; saw the cli- 
max approached, reached, passed! and then, with a little 
ecstatic scream, darted upon the stage, and forgetful of 
her supposed injury, began to clap her hands as the cur- 
tain fell, and the applause of an admiring audience told 
her that the fii’st act had triumphantly ended. 

“Excellent! excellent! excellent! I am proud of you 
all!” she gushed, as she fluttered about, embracing the 
ladies and shaking hands with the gentlemen. “Quick! 
all of you! Away to your rooms and change your dresses 
for the next act ! Miss Catheron, go at once and put on a 
touch of color — you are too pale! Clear the stage, every- 
body, and give the carpenters an opportunity to change 
the scene. Lord Keith ! Lord Keith ! Stop a moment, I 
want you !” 

In obedience to her former command every one of the 


THE KINO'S DAUGHTERS. 


12D 


actors — his lordship included —had scurried away to change 
their costumes and leave the stage clear for the “grips” 
and property men to work; but catching the sound of her 
ladyship’s voice, Lord Keith stopped abruptly, and turn- 
ing, walked toward her. 

“■ What is it?” he said. “ You called me, I think. Lady 
Blanche?” 

“Yes,” she answered, almost breathless Avith excite- 
ment. “I want to employ my amanuensis again. You 
know the questions which are read by the visitors in the 
schoolroom scene? I had them all written out and pasted 
in a book, and now some stupid creature has taken the 
book away, and I am in despair. Won’t you please 
make a fresh copy for me? It won’t take you long to 
change your costume for the next act, and if you only 
hurry there will be plenty of time in which to rectify this 
stupid blunder!” 

“Proteus himself couldn’t perform a change quicker 
than I shall make this one, then!” responded his lordship, 
laughingly; then, as he turned and hurried away: “ Have 
everything ready for me, and I will be down in a twink- 
ling,” he added. 

And Avith a laugh that Avas almost hysterical Avith ex- 
citement, my lady thanked him, and darted away to su- 
perintend the setting of the next scene. 

Never very slow in making his toilet. Lord Keith fairly 
jumped into his clothes this time— he kneAV from the re- 
hearsals that the questions Avere many, and it Avould 
require at least ten minutes to copy them — and, even be- 
fore Lady Blanche anticipated it, he was at her side again, 
dressed and ready for the second act. 

“Oh, you haven’t given me the chance to get the Avrit- 
ing materials yet!” she said, Avith mock despair, as she 
turned and saAv him. “But neA-er mind, there are plenty 
in the library, and you can go there without being seen by 
the audience. Here is the book; you Avill know Avhere to 
find the questions. Run doAvn that passage to the right, 
and it Avill lead you to the library Avithout anybody seeing 
you. Quick! quick! We musn’t make the ‘Avait’ too 
long, or we Avill tire our audience.” 

For all ansAver, Lord Keith took the prompt-book from 
her hand, darted aAvay in the direction of the right cor- 
ridor, Avhich led past the dressing rooms of the gentle- 
men, and bounded in the direction of the library. 

Waiting only to see him go, my lady hurried to the rear 
of the stage, where tlie properties for the schoolroom 
scene were lying, opened a desk, took out a blotter and a 
bottle of ink, and sliding into a corner Avhere no one ob- 


130 THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 

served her, gave the finishing touches to her clever little 
scheme. 

Fishing the decoy letter from her pocket, she spread it 
open, poured some fresh ink upon the blot which covered 
the signiture, allowed it to soak into the paper, and then 
ran the blotter across it. 

“ So large a blot would scarcely be thoroughly drj^ if 
the letter were only just written,” she murmured, as she 
refolded the written sheet and slipped it back into the 
envelope, and then carefully sealed it. “I am the grand- 
daughter of ‘Hulda, the Weasel,’ Miss Inez Catheron, 
and it takes a shrewd person to catch a weasel asleep.” 

Holding the letter in her hand — for there Avas now no 
reason for concealing it — she fluttered out of her shadowy 
retreat, darted across the stage, and ran in the direction 
of the ladies’ dressing-room. 

Encountering one of the maids, Avho was hurrying 
down the passage Avith her arms full of feminine finery, my 
lady stopped the girl, and hastily thrust the letter into her 
hand. 

“Take that note to Miss Catheron Avithout an instant’s 
delay,” she said breathlessly. ‘‘It is from Lord Keith; he 
just'gave it to me. Say that it is a matter of life and 
death. Go!” 

The girl thi’eAv aside the armful of finery and darted 
aAvaj'; and. Availing only to see her fly to Inez Catheron’s 
room to gi\^e the letter into the hand of Martha Boggs — 
Avho opened the door in response to the maid’s lusty knock- 
ing — my lady tui’iied and fled back in the dii*ection of the 
stage. 

Sir Harry Charteris, dressed and ready for the second 
act, sauntered down and joined her; but my lady Avas in 
no mood for enjoying the chaff, or indulging in the faint- 
est approach to a flirtation at present, for her nerves 
Avere at a fearful tension, her brain Avhirling, and her 
Avhole body trembling Avith nervous excitement. 

She darted about— interfering Avitli, more than assisting, 
the property men and stage hands, this time — she gave 
wrong orders, blundered in a dozen different Avays, as she 
flew from pillar to post; called things by the wrong 
names, and ordered them to be set in Avrong places, and 
her mind was in a state of positive torture Avhen she 
looked up and caught sight of Inez Catheron hurrying 
across the stage and looking as pale as death. 

‘‘Hello! Avhat the deuce is the matter?” exclaimed Sir 
Harry Charteris, as he. too, saAv her. ‘‘ Why, you’re as 
Avhite as a ghost. Miss Catheron ! Are you ill?” 

“No,” she answered, nervously. “I — I am only sur- 
prised, Avorried. I have just received a most remarkable 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


131 


message, and I fancy it is either a mistake or somebody is 

playing a cruel hoax, which Where is Lord Keith? 

Has anybody seen him?” 

“Keith?” repeated Sir Harry, elevating his eyebrows. 
“ Yes, I’ve seen him !” 

“When? Where? How?” 

“Why, in the north coiTidor, a few minutes ago!” re- 
sponded Sir Harry. “I saw him racing along there as 
though he was in no end of a hurry. I was just going 
across from my room to Sir Charles Enderby’s at the 
time.” 

“ Where did he go? Did you notice, Sir Harry ?” 

“Why, 3*es, he bolted into the library — I heard him 
shut the door!” 

“The library!” I’epeated Inez, in a faint, sick voice, as 
though the mention of that place were a confirmation of 
her worst fears. “ You are sui'e of that. Sir Harry?” 

Lady Blanche, listening intently and suffering, mean- 
while, all the tortures of the lost, strained her ears to catch 
the baronet’s reply, but before she could do so — before 
even Sir Harry could frame it— a servant approached and 
bowed before her. 

“If you please, my lady,” he began, “Lord Keith told 
me to ask you if you’d step into the library for a minute. 
He just can’t make that matter out!” 

It was well for my lady that she stood apart from the 
others, and doubly well that a bungling stage-hand hap- 
pened to overturn a desk at this juncture, and that the 
crash of its fall drowned to all ears save hers the words 
which followed the mention of his lordship’s name, for 
softly as the servant had spoken, and briskly as she dis- 
missed him, she realized in a glance that Miss Catheron 
had overheard, and, Avheeling sharply, stepped toward 
hei*, just as the heiress looked up, and said, excitedly : 

“What did Hurlbert say to you in regard to Lord 
Keith, Lady Blanche? Surely, I heard the mention of his 
name?” 

“ Yes,” returned her ladyship, with glib sweetness ; “I 
wonder what can be Lord Keith’s motive? He has just 
sent and asked me to make this intermission as long as 

possible, and Good gracious ! Miss Catheron, how you 

started. Are you ill? Ah! only a slight pain, was it? 
Indeed, I am very glad it is no worse. Fray find Lord 
Keith and beg him to hurry. See, the stage is almost set; 
as it is, the intermission has been quite long. But, pardon 
me, I must get the books for this scene. The tiresome 
things are in my own room.” 

Then, without further hesitation— for she feared lest her 
delay might bring Lord Keith hastening upon the scene — 


132 THE KIN&S DAUGHTERS. 

she fluttered away, and ran breathlessly in the direction 
of the library. 

“My Heaven! I must be careful— careful!” she 
panted. “Inez does not swallow the bait so easily as I 
had hoped; and, at all risks, at aw?/ cost, I must keep Lord 
Keith from leaving the library, and keep her from enter- 
ing it. If she does not go to the east wicket in answer to 
the letter— and, worse than all, does not go quickly— I 
shall be I’uined — ruined ! Zillah will come down as soon as 
the orchestra ceases playing, and if Inez has not left the 
stage beforehand, the whole plot will be revealed and my 
vengeance defeated.” 

It was an awkward situation, certainly, and one not cal- 
culated to set my lady’s mind at ease. 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

THE TANGLED WEB. 

IsADY Blanche, however, was not one to relinquish a 
hope while a ghost of a chance remained, and hastening 
breathlessly down the corridor, she reached the library 
door, opened it and fluttered in. 

“ Oh, it’s you at last!” exclaimed Lord Keith. “ Know- 
ing how little time we have to spare, I was just about to 
go in search of you. Lady Blanche; I can’t make these 
questions out. That is to say, some parts of the text are 
marked as ‘ cut out, ’ and then re-marked to be left in, and 
I can’t for the life of me tell which sign to follow. See! I 
have copied the most of them, but these marked ones 
bother me.” 

My lady leaned over the desk where he sat and glanced 
at what he had written; now or never was her chance to 
detain him. 

“ Oh, dear me ! You’ve got it all wrong!” she exclaimed 
with mock despair. “ You have only written the cues and 
answers, and to be sure of no mistake being made I dis- 
tinctly asked you to copy the whole page.” 

“ Did you? Why, I am sure I didn’t hear it, then.” 

“ But I said it, nevertheless,” with a smile that cost a 
terrible effort. “ Here, take a fresh sheet of paper and 
begin again, and I’ll stand by you to insure its being per- 
fectly done this time.” 

“ Phew! copy it all over again, do you say? But won’t 
that make the wait terribly long?” 

“ Long or not, we can’t help it,” she answered. “ Bet- 
ter a long wait than a blunder in the scene. Do begin. 
Lord Keith, and be sure you write it as clearly as possi- 
ble.” 

Thus admonished his lordship took a fresh sheet of 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


paper, began the work anew, and for the next ten minutes 
nothing was heard but the scratch, scratch, scratch of his 
pen. 

In a state of terrible excitement — for she knew that the 
orchestra had ceased playing by this time, and the suc- 
cessor failure of her plans was now thoroughly established, 
Lady Blanche paced the floor during the last five minutes 
of the writing, and but for the scratching of his pen, ab- 
sorbed though he was in the work. Lord Keith must have 
heard her gritting her teeth under the strain of the mental 
torture she endured. 

But the end came at length, and, tossing aside his pen, 
he sprung to his feet. 

“ Victoria ! The deed is done !” he laughed. “ Now then 
for a book to stick it in, and away we’ll fly back to the 
stage.” 

He darted to one of the bookcases as he spoke, selected 
a volume, then, pinning the written slieet between the 
leaves, he closed it with a snap, and whirled open the li- 
brary door. 

“By George, the music has stopped, and the audience 
must be growing impatient!” he exclaimed. “ The curtain 
has been down at least fifteen minutes. Come along, Lady 
Blanche. We haven’t an instant to lose.” 

“King up the curtain for me — I’ll be there as quickly as 
possible !” she responded, in a strident voice. 

Lord Keith darted away in tlie direction of the stage. 

“Success or failure — success or failure!” gasped her 
ladyship, huskily, as she moved falteringly after him. 
“I have crossed the Rubicon, but have I won or lost, I 
wonder?” 

Slowly and with uncertain steps— for her strength 
seemed to forsake her under the strain of this dreadful 
ordeal, which was to make or mar the structure of her 
vengeance — she slunk along the now deserted passage, 
and, like a wounded snake, crawled feebly onward to the 
touchstone of her fate. 

Midway in the corridor she suddenly stopped short, 
and, laying one hand over her heart, leaned back against 
the wail, sick and faint with terror: for the distant tink- 
ling of a bell told her that the cui'tain had risen, and the 
second act of “ School ” had begun. 

The second act was moving along as smoothly as the 
first had done when she reached the stage, and, gliding to 
the wing, she flashed a nervous glance at the actors. 

They were all “on the boards” at the time, for the 
schoolroom scene was in progress— and that calls for the 
presence of every character in the play — and glancing 
along the rows of desks where the “ sweet girl graduates” 


134 


THE KhXG'S DAUGHTERS. 


sat in bright array, my lady’s eye flashed to the place 
assigned to Bella, saw that it was filled, and then, as 
though fascinated, she stood and stared at the drooping 
face of its occupant— the face of Inez Catheron, or Zillah, 
the gypsy — which? 

“ My Heaven! I cannot tell— I cannot tell!” she groaned, 
in impotent despair. “Which am I facing— success or 
failure? Which am I looking at— the heiress or the out- 
cast? The answer is here before me at this moment, and 
vet I cannot i*ead it!” 

Breathless and trembling with excitement, she leaned 
forward and watched the progress of the play, and from 
that moment until she knew to a certainty whether she 
had failed or succeeded, her eyes never left the face of the 
girl who was playing the role of Bella. 

Not yet had she been called upon to ^eak— and from 
experience, my lady knew that both voices were so won- 
derfully alike she could discover nothing that way ; but 
now the examination scene was beginning. Already Beau 
Farintosh was opening the book which Dr. Sutcliffe had 
handed him for the purpose of questioning the scholars, 
and as though she hoped, somehow, to detect a clew which 
would reveal the truth to her, my lady’s agitation in- 
creased, and her bright eyes watched that fair, girlish face 
as though its beauty fascinated her. 

One by one the questions w’ere given out, and one by one 
the scholars answered, until with a start of nervous in- 
terest, my lady heard the speech whose end was Bella’s 
cue, and forgetting to breathe in her excitement, stood like 
a figure of marble, and waited for the end. 

It came — it passed— and Bella ai’ose to answer. 

For one second she seemed to falter, seemed to be strug- 
gling to find her voice; her eyes dilated with a look of fear 
as they lifted and she saw the audience ; her lips quivered ; 
her face grew visibly paler; she spoke, and at the sound 
of her own voice, started as though it were something 
strange and new to her, and long before the speech was 
ended and the speaker took her seat, my lady knew the 
truth. 

That brief attack of “ stage -fright ” had revealed it to 
her; she knew to a certainty that the girl who spoke those 
lines had never faced the footlights, nor lifted her voice 
in public before that very minute, and in the furious joy 
which swept across her soul then, my lady could almost 
have shrieked aloud. 

“I win— I win! It is Zillah!” she panted, as she sunk 
into a chair and turned her face from the stage, so that 
none might read the barbaric joy which she knew must 
be written there. “The scheme has worked, the change 


THE KINHS DAUGHTERS. 135 

has been made, and now — Keith, your heart is under my 
heel.” 

So, in a moment, my lady’s mood changed, and she be- 
came the butterfly again 

She had seen all ej'es turn upon Zillah when she blun- 
dered— after Inez had been so calm and self-possessed — 
but she knew, also, that the brief attack of stage-fright 
would be entirely ovei’come by the time she must speak 
again, and in that knowledge lost the last fear for the suc- 
cess of her revenge. 

When next the cue was given for Bella to speak, all 
eyes were directed to her as before; but this time there 
was no faltering— this time her voice obeyed her, and it 
was the voice of Inez Catheron to the life. 

When the curtain fell upon the second act, my lady 
rushed to her with a little coo of delight. 

‘‘My dear Miss Catheron, I shall not put you to such 
hard measures one moment longer,” she cried. ‘‘ You are 
nervous over the removal of that ring, and it is simply 
cruel to torture you so. Never mind whether it is incon- 
gruous or not, Lord Keith —her nervous fit in this past act 
has taught me how she suffers, the superstitious little 
pagan, and she shall wear it in spite of everything. Put 
it back upon her finger, and let her keep it there to the 
end.” 

“ With all my heart.” he answered, as he took the jewel 
from his pocket and slipped it upon her hand ; then, in a 
lower voice: “Are you happy, Inez,” he added, ‘‘now 
that the pledge of my love for you is given never to be I’e- 
called from you, even in play?” 

‘‘Doubly happy!” she answered, in a whisper that 
thrilled him Avith rapture. ‘‘So happy, Alaric, I could 
almost cry !” 

‘‘Clear the stage— clear the stage!” broke in Lady 
Blanche, laughingly, as she gave them a playful push, 
‘‘and please, happy people, don’t rehearse the ‘milk jug 
scene ’ at present. Miss Catheron, you didn’t obey my in- 
junction to put on some rouge, for you are as pale as a lily 
even yet.” 

“I forgot it,” responded Zillah, with a laugh. ‘‘And 
besides, I’m afraid I don’t knoAv hoAv to do it properly. 
It’s an art of Avhich I have no knoAvledge, dear Lady 
Blanche.” 

‘‘ But an art which is absolutely requisite Avhen one has 
to face the footlights, my dear!” returned her ladj^ship, 
gayly; ‘‘so, to be certain that you loon't ‘forget it’ 
again, I shall take the liberty of accompanying you to 
your dressing-room and of doing the ‘ painting ’ myself.” 

Then, Avith a parting Avord to Lord Keith, she led her 


136 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


dupe away, ostensibly foi* the purpose mentioned, but 
really for the simple sake of showing her where to go, and 
of whispering a few words of caution and advice as they 
went. 

“ Oh, you done that act just too sweet for anything, 
Miss Inez!” exclaimed, rapturously, old Martha Boggs, as 
Zillah and Lady Blanche entered Miss Catheron’s dress- 
ing-room. “But when in the world did you come back? 
I kept watchin’ and a- watch in’ arter I seen you leave Sir 
Harry Charteris and rush otf like you was took mad, but 
I never seen you coine hack, and the first thing I knowed 
there you was, a-standin’ on t’other side o’ the stage a-read- 
in’ over your part 1” 

Zillah laughed softly, but offered no explanation, and 
having applied a morsel of rouge to the girl’s soft cheeks, 
my lady kissed her with seeming tenderness, and then 
fluttered away. 

“Which,” admitted Martha Boggs, when she told the 
housekeeper of it afterward, “ struck me all of a heap 
with astonishment, for how them two came to be so thick, 
all on a pop, clean beat me out. Miss Flicker, I do assure 
you!” 


CHAPTER XXX. 

THE SECOND ENDING OF THE TRAGEDY. 

The success of the private threatricals was beyond all 
question, and it furnished the country with food for con- 
versation for many a day afterward. 

The curtain fell on the final act amid the heartiest ap- 
plause, the actors congratulated one another, and tendered 
Lady Blanche a vote of thanks for her valuable assistance, 
“ without which,” volunteered Sir Charles Enderby, 
“ we’d all have made a fearful muddle of it, especially 
Charty, he’s such an awful muff !” 

My lady accepted the honors heaped upon her with her 
accustomed sweetness, flattered each member of the cast 
in the most delicate and satisfying way, then the stage 
was abandoned, the schoolgirl costumes were exchanged 
for ball dresses, the gentlemen’s frock coats and cutaways 
for “ claw-hammers ” and the necessary adjuncts, and then 
the dancing began. 

This meeting and mixing with Inez Catheron’s many 
friends and acquaintances was the most trying part of 
Zillah’s experience, but Lady Blanche kept close to her 
side— ever ready to prompt her— and between this valu- 
able assistance and a plea that she was too much fatigued 
by the performance to enter into the festivities to any 
great extent, she managed to pass through the ordeal of 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


137 


the night, and people who might otherwise have been 
offended by her disinclination to enter into any extended 
conversation, or might have remarked her apparent 
uneasiness, attributed evei’ything to the cause assigned, 
and thought the result “quite natural.” 

Her growing fondness for Lady Blanche’s society 
proved a source of satisfaction to the old earl, and he 
found an opportunity to tell her so before the night ended. 

“You see, my darling, you misjudged her!” he said. 
“ Think how tirelessly she has worked for the success of 
our entei’tainment, and how much we owe her! Your 
Aunt Alicia is positively infatuated with her !” 

“Aunt Alicia is not alone in that, grandpapa!’’ re- 
turned Zillah, laughingly. “Shall 1 confess it? Lady 
Blanche’s perennial good nature, her kindness to me, 
and her unselfishness throughout the entire affair has 
quite won my heart, and I am willing to confess that I 
did misjudge her. Alaric says that she is the noblest of 
women, and that, all reports to the contrary, we really 
owe the whole success of the play to her tireless work and 
persistent endeavor.’’ 

“Alaric is a sensible fellow, my dear,” responded the 
old earl, Avarmly. “Lady Blanche is really a charming 
and noble woman, and I am pleased that your eyes have 
at length been opened to it!” 

“ Not alone my eyes, grandpapa, but my heart and— my 
conscience!” 

“ Your conscience, dear? Why, what do you mean by 
that?” 

“Nothing, only that I am sorry I misjudged her, and 
I want to do something to atone for it. I have formed a 
plan, but I don’t know how you will like it. I want to 
ask Lady Blanche to stay here— to live with us for a year 
or two. Would j’ou object to that?” 

“Egad! but you’re a young lady of extremes; eh, 
Keith?” laughed the old earl. “Talk about rushing an 
acquaintance, here’s an example, if you like. Why, only 
a fortnight ago you were sorry she ever came here, and 
now 5mu want to keep her ‘for a year or two!’ ” 

“ But you will let me do so, will you not, grandpapa?” 

Let you? Well, you’ve always done as you pleased, 
for one thing, my dear, and for the other, I should be de- 
lighted if she were to stay here forever!” responded Lord 
Glandore. “Now that you've got your precious Alaric, 
I begin to see that I’m to expect only a few odd moments 
of your society ; and as Lady Blanche is a host in herself, 
I say, by all means keep her.” 

“And you, Alaric?” 

“My darling, I have no will but yours!” he answered. 


138 


THE KING’S DAUGHTERS. 


with a smile. “ I respect and admire her ladyship, and 
although I have I’eason to believe that somebody else will 
be liable to take her away from us in the near future, if it 
please you to ask her to remain with us forever, it will 
please me also, Inez.” 

So the matter was settled; my lady was invited tore- 
main at the Court, and the invitation was sweetly ac- 
cepted. 

In the meantime, she watched and waited, and made 
frequent journeys to the east wicket, in quest of a certain 
signal which she was anxious to see; for although the 
gypsies folded up their tents and left Bracken Hollow two 
days after the supposed “recalling” of the Spirit Child, 
as yet no news had reached her regarding the further 
movements of her father, and the certainty of Inez Cathe- 
ron’s incarceration in a madhouse was only a matter of 
speculation. 

It was not until a week after the heiress had disappeared 
that my lady found the signal she awaited, and knew that 
her father had returned, and would be at the old place of 
meeting that night. 

When all the household was wrapped in sleep she stole 
out to the Oak Walk and met him under the trees, and 
all that she desired to know was told to her then and 
there. 

The scheme had worked to perfection. 

Miss Catheron had been seized and drugged the moment 
she appeared at the wicket in response to the decoy letter, 
and in this condition she had been borne to a French mad- 
house, as originally planned, and was even then the in- 
mate of a maniac’s cell. 

“ The man who keeps it is a human beast — a rascal who 
has less conscience than a tiger, and less mercy than a 
snake!” explained Marco. “He knows nothing of her 
name and station, and never asked for information regard- 
ing either. So long as the money is forthcoming, he agrees 
to keep her under bolt and bar, and even hinted that should 
there come a time when we want her silenced forever, a 
good round sum will purchase his services for the perpe- 
tration of the deed.” 

My lady listened intently to the entire recital, and, 
when it was concluded, drew her father aside and began 
to detail her plans for the future progress of their dark 
work. 

It was late when she left him and crept back into the 
house. Unseen she had left it, \inseen she returned, and 
only God and they two knew what had been plotted be- 
tween Marco and his daughter under the trees of the Oak 
Walk. 


THE KINHS DAUGHTERS. 130 

The beautiful summer days drifted rapidly along, and 
August came around at last. 

Life to Zillah had been a dream^of delight since the hour 
she crossed the threshold of Glandore Court, and believing 
what my lad}' had told lier — that Inez Catheron had long 
since fallen a victim to gypsy vengeance, and that, as she 
had saved Lord Keith from a like fate, and, wronging no 
one, only blessed herself and him by the fraud she had 
perpetrated— gave herself up to the blissful possibilities of 
the future, and measured time from the day Avhen she 
should be his wife. 

So the days rolled on, and the preparations for the Aved- 
ding continued. 

The tenth of August came around at last, and, to the joy 
of all concerned, it was truly a perfect day. 

In white satin splendor, and virginal orange blossoms, 
Zillah was driven aAvay to the church at Leitli in company 
Avith Lord Glandore and the Countess of Elsdale; and 
Avhile the bells Avere ringing through the sunshiny splen- 
dor of the summer morning, and the Glandore tenantry- 
cheered itself hoarse, the second act of a tragedy Avas be- 
gun and ended. 

Happy Avith a lover’s greatest happiness, Lord Keith re- 
ceived his bride from the hands of the old earl. 

In joy he took, in reverence he sAvore to hold the woman 
who entered that church as Zillah, the gypsy, but Avho 
left it Avhat her husband had made her— Lady Inez Keith, 
the heiress of Glandore. 


o 


PART THIRD. 

CHAPTER XXXI. 

HOAV THE NEW LIFE OPENED. 

“And this is Paris, Alaric?” 

“ This is Paris— yes, my darling!” smiled Lord Keith, as 
he Avalked over to his Avife’s side, and, brushing back the 
curtains of the Avindow Avhere she stood, looked downAvith 
her upon the teeming boulevards of the gay French capi- 
tal, over Avhich the crisp sunshine of the October morning 
lay like a golden mist. “ But why do you lay so much 
stress upon the Avord ‘this,’ Inez? One Avould think that 
the sight astoni-shed you.” 

“It does,” she ansAA'ered, lifting her innocent eyes to 
his and smiling up into his adoring face. “ I have never 


140 


THE KING'S DAVGHTEKS. 


seen so much bustle and confusion anywhere. It is so dif- 
ferent from the other cities we have visited, and so very, 
very different from London, Everything here is so clean, 
and everybody seems so happy. Oh, I am sure I shall 
like this place best of all. Shall we stay here long?” 

‘•Until it wearies you, my darling!” he answered, as he 
drew her closer to his side, and bending, kissed her hair. 
“ It is only your pleasure I study, sweet, and so long as it 
pleases you to remain here we will defer our return to 
Glandore Court. Lady Blanche will probably join us be- 
fore noon, and, since we are so close to England, it would 
not surprise me if your grandfather were to accompany 
her’.” 

‘‘Oh, I shall be so glad!” responded Zillah, her face 
brightening anew. “ I really long to see Blanche, and I 
know we shall have such happy times when she joins us, 
for she, too, is very fond of Paris. When we arrived here 
last night, I did not think I should like it ; but this morn- 
ing I am quite charmed with the place!” 

Lord Keith laughed a rollicking, happy laugh, and tight- 
ened the clasp of the arm which he had wound about her 
waist. 

‘‘You precious little nondescript, how oddly you talk, 
to be sure !” he said gayly . ‘ ‘ To hear you, one would think 

that you had never set eyes upon Paris before.” 

‘‘Nor have 1,” she answered artlessly. ‘‘It is true, we 
passed through it the day after we were married, but one 
sees so little of a city from the windows of a railway 
coach, that it can hardly be called seeing it at all, 
Alaric.” 

Lord Keith glanced at her, and a thoughtful ridge gath- 
ered between his brows. 

‘‘ You are in one of your mystifying moods again, Inez,” 
he said. ” I was not alluding to the time we passed 
through Paris at the beginning of our bridal tour. I was 
thinking of the time you sojourned here. Lord Glandore 
told me that you spent two years in the Convent of the 
Sacred Heart finishing your education, for one thing, and 
in addition ” 

A sudden pallor swept across Zillah’s face as she realized 
the blunder wliich she had committed, and before her hus- 
band could complete his remarks, she made a hasty inter- 
position. 

‘‘Yes, I was in a convent here,” she said nervously, 
“but one sees even less of a city from behind the walls 
of a convent than from the windows of a railway coach, 
Alaric. But do look at that queerly-dressed man opposite. 
He must be a foreigner, I think.” 

Lord Keith glanced in the direction indicated, saw the 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


141 


stranger, made some remark in reference to him, and as 
that gave the conversation another turn, the allusion 
■which he had meant to make relative to a certain time 
■when Inez Catheron and Lady Elsdale had spent two 
months in Paris, slipped his mind, and was not recalled. 

It was not the first, nor yet the second of these small 
errors which Zillah had committed in the ten sweet weeks 
of their wedded life, for many a time her innocent delight 
had betrayed her into some thoughtless word or act which 
puzzled her husband, but she had always managed to turn 
his attention from the subject— just as she turned it now 
— the very instant she realized that an error had been 
committed, and, warned by that, was careful afterward 
not to approach the same subject. 

But these errors had been the only speck in the sky of 
her happiness, and even they were so slight that, while 
they mystified Lord Keith, and terrified her for the in- 
stant, they left no shadow to mar the perfect sunshine of 
their wedded bliss. 

If there had been one weak spot in her love for Alaric 
Keith, his devotion, his tender thoughtfulness, and his 
constant study to please her slightest fancy must have 
strengthened it; but as it had been a “perfect structure. 
Heaven builded,” from the very first, this new, sweet 
happiness could do no more than show her how fast her 
soul was bound to his and how empty the world would be 
without him. 

She was thinking of it even now as they stood there in 
the window of the hotel and looked down upon the sun- 
shiny boulevard and talked of the passing throng, and a 
faint low sigh escaped her as she let her head droop until 
it rested upon his shoulder. 

“Hello, I say I sighing already. Lady Keith?” he 
laughed good humoredly. “I’m aware that it’s the 
general rule for people to sober down after they’re 
married and take a matter-of-fact view of life in general, 
but aren’t you rushing it a little? Only married ten weeks 
yesterday, and here you are sighing already? Sick of 
your bai-gain so soon, my lady?” 

“ No, she answered with a smile. “ That is a sickness 
I am sure will never claim me for a victim, Alaric— I 
think I love you too much for that. As for the sigh— I 
was only thinking, that’s all !” 

“Thinking, my daiding? Thinking of what?” 

“ Of our honeymoon,” she murmured softly. “It has 
been so happy, Alaric, that I hate to see it go. But — ” 
this with another sigh — “time will not stand still even 
for a woman so blessed by Heaven as I, so I must be con- 


142 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


tent to face the inevitable whether it pleases me or not. 
Our honeymoon will end here !” 

“ No, our bridal tour— not our honeymoon,” he 
answered as he kissed her. “ That will last all the days 
of our lives, Inez. Such love as ours will defy the 
ravages of time, I am sure, and we shall be lovers — 
married lovers, if you will— to the day when death 
divides us, as only death can !” 

“ You are sure of it, Alaric?” — with rapturous earger- 
ness — “ your feel no change in your affection for the 
woman you have wooed?” 

“Only what I have told you— a deeper, stronger, holier 
love for the woman I have won!” he answered with a 
smile. “Why, my darling, what new phase is this? You 
are weeping, Inez?” 

“ But only tears of happiness, Alaric!” she murmured, 
tenderly. “After all I have done well, my husband — for 
your sake and for mine. ’ ’ 

“Principally mine I should imagine,” he responded, 
jokingly. “But now if it please you. Lady Keith, will 
you kindly recollect that it is half -past ten, and if you 
really mean to enjoy a morning ride, you had better give 
yourself into the hands of the illustrious Martha Boggs, 
and get dressed as speedily as possible, or the carriage 
will b^e ready befoi'e you are. We’ll just take a spin around 
the boulevards and be here to greet Lady Blanche at noon, 
and after that, pi’ovided her ladyship feels equal to the 
exei’tion, we’ll all pay a visit to the Salon Exhibition and 
have a peep at the pictures. The salon only opened two 
days ago, but the clerk of the hotel told me last night that 
it is the best exhibit the society has made for years. One 
particular picture, according" to his story, has made a 
decided hit, and will in itself, repay us for a visit. It is 
the work of an American artist wliose name was unknown 
to fame until he produced this painting, and it is called — 
let— me— see now. What the dickens is it? Something 

about trees or flowers, or Oh, yes! I recollect now. 

‘ The Flower of the Forest,’ that’s the name of it. The 
clerk hasn’t seen it himself, but he says that everybody is 
talking about it, and people are fairly flocking to the salon 
to view it. Should you like to go too?” 

“Oh, very much indeed, Alaric.” 

“Very well, then, if Lady Blanche isn’t too tired after 
her long journey, we’ll drop into the salon this afternoon, 
and then, if she is able to stand an additional strain. I’ll 
see if we can’t get a box for the opera this evening. Now, 
then, give me a kiss before we both go into retirement for 
the purpose of arraying ourselves like Solomon in all his 
glory.” 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


143 


Then, taking her in his arms, he kissed her, not once, but 
half a dozen times, and then stalked off to his dressing- 
room to give himself into the hands of his valet. 

Fora moment Zillah lingered in the pretty, quiet break- 
fast-room of the suit, -then she touched the bell as a signal 
for the garcon to enter and remove the remnants of their 
morning meal; and, humming softly to herself, fluttered 
away to dress for the drive. 

Half an hour later the carriage was announced. Lord 
Keith led her down and assisted her into it ; and even as he 
did so he could not but notice how the by-standers stared 
at her, and how, throughout the morning drive, pedestrians 
on the pavement and people in passing carriages turned 
around and regarded his wife as though she were an object 
of national interest. 

It was not an entirely new experience, for Zillah’s un- 
usual beauty had excited comments in every place they had 
visited, but it had never been so pronounced as this; and, 
after awhile, as they bowled along through the bright, 
morning sunshine, it becamo so frequent and so annoying 
that she was obliged to lower her veil to escape observation 
from the crowd. 

“Talk about French politeness! I’m blessed if this isn’t 
a glorious example of French insolence !” muttered Lord 
Keith, angrily. “ If you I’emain in Paris another day, 
these impertinent beggars will stare you out of counte- 
nance, Inez.” 

“They are very rude, certainly,” she answered, in a 
tone of annoyance. “ I dislike to wear a veil over my face, 
but it seems to me the only way of escaping notice ; and 
if people will only cease staring at me now, I shall be 
satisfied, Alaric.” 

People did cease, of course, as soon as she veiled her 
face, but it spoiled her enjoyment to be obliged to keep 
herself muffled up all the time, and she was not sorry 
when the horses’ heads were again turned in the direction 
of the hotel. 

But whatever annoyance she had undergone, it was all 
forgotten, when, upon returning at noon, she found Lady 
Blanche Hay awaiting her. 

“My darling, darling girl! how well you are looking, to 
be sure,” twittered her ladyship after she had kissed and 
embraced her half a dozen times. “ And you, too. Lord 
Keith. Positively I never saw you looking better in my 
life! What is that you say? Lord Glandore? Oh, no; he 
didn’t accompany me. He had intended to do so, but 
yesterday morning his old enemy, the gout, made him an 
unexpected visit, which, while not severe, was at least 


144 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


enough to prevent him making the journey, so I was ob- 
liged to come alone!” 

Both Zillah and Lord Keith expressed their sorrow over 
the old earl’s misfortune and disappointment; then the 
subject was dropped; they fell to chatting in a desultory 
way, and presently dinner was announced. 

Lady Blanche dined with the young couple at their pri- 
vate table, and, to the delight of both, announced herself 
not only willing but happy to join them in their visit to 
the salon and their box at the opera. 

“Very well, then, if you will excuse me, ladies, I will 
dispatch a messenger to secure the box and also order the 
carriage pi’epared,” announced his lordship as he arose 
from the table; then, having questioned them regarding 
the time at which they would prefer to start for the salon, 
he stalked out of the room and left them. 

Once alone with her dupe, Ijady Blanche arose, and, 
taking her in her arms, smiled down into her beautiful 
flushing face. 

“Well, did I advise you illy, Zillah?” she said, in her 
sweetest voice. “ I need not ask if you are happy, for I 
read it in your eyes, my dear. You have married the 
man you love, my dear, and all is told in that!” 

“No, not all, for you have forgotten to add that he loves 
me, Blanche,” responded Zillah, in a voice of rapture. 
“I know not why, but I have dreaded that his heart 
would detect the difference even though his eye failed to 
do so, but now all doubt is dead, and my life has become 
perfect. Only to-day he told me that his wife was dearer 
to him than his sweetheart, and that he loved me better 
than th'e woman he had asked to be his wife. ]\Iy life is 
perfect, Blanche, perfect ! It wants nothing to crown it 
now— not even the sweetest and the holiest tie that can 
unite a man and his wife throughout the years to come!” 

Then dropping her blushing face upon my lady’s bosom, 
she wept such tears as only they can shed whose lives are 
too happy, and whose hearts are too full for laugh tei*. 

Ten minutes later, when my lady left her and went to 
her own apartments to dress for their visit to the salon, 
she stopped on her way past Lord Keith’s door and 
laughed at it as though it heard and understood. 

“ Born of a gypsy mother!” she said, with a sleek, soft 
laugh. “ How proud you will be of the child, Keith, 
when I have branded its mother as a vagabond and an 
outcast! The bond that unites, she calls it; but in the 
days to come she will live to know it what I know it now 
—the blow that divides— the curse that crushes, and the 
bond that horrifies. Oh, my lord! my lord! what a fool 
you made of yourself that night at Cam Ruth! Marco is 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


145 


here — Marco and some one else — you poor, unsuspecting 
dupe, and the curtain is ready to go up in the third act of 
the tragedy the moment I raise my hand. A vagabon .. 
gypsy for your wife — a vagabond gypsy for the mother of 
your child ! Was it worth while, Keith, to make an enemy 
of me?” 

Then, with another purring, catlike laugh, she hurried 
onward, and swiftly disappeared. 


CHAPTER XXXII. 

HOW CHANCE HELPED MY LADY. 

It was striking two o’clock when a servant came up and 
announced that “‘the carriage awaited my lord’s pleas- 
ure,” and as “ milor ” and the ladies had long been ready 
and Avere only chatting in the private parlor for the sake 
of killing time, they arose instantly, donned their hats 
and outer garments, and hurried down to the Avaiting 
vehicle. 

Profiting by the morning’s experience, and not wish- 
ing to subject his bride to a repetition of Avhat he termed 
‘‘the staring nuisance,” Lord Keith had secured a closed 
vehicle this time, and as a result, beyond the feAv Avho 
stopped in the lobby of the hotel and looked after her as 
she passed out to the carriage, Zillah escaped the annoy- 
ance Avhich had marred her morning’s ride. 

But once arrived at the Paris Salon, it Avas eAudent that 
she must again endure the annoyance, for her appearance 
excited a genuine commotion. 

The long rooms of the society Avere packed by an ever- 
increasing croAvd ; but, as Lady Keith moved from pict- 
ure to picture, people kept folloAving her Avith their eyes, 
the ruder ones nudged one another and began to Avhis- 
per, the better bred made Avay for her and silently stared, 
until she found herself in the embarrassing situation of a 
woman upon Avhom four-fifths of the entire gathei“ing 
stared as though she Avere a cuidosity. 

‘‘Confound the impertinent crew! What has come 
over them, I Avonder?” said Lord Keith Avith annoyance. 
“ It’s no use trying to see anything here with any degree 
of comfort, Inez, so Ave’ll just take a peep at the Ameri- 
can’s picture, and then be off again. Here’s one of the 
attendants — I’ll ask him to direct us where to find it. 
Pardon me, my man” — this in French, of course — ‘‘but 
can you direct me Avhere to find ” 

‘‘It is there, m’sieur!” interrupted the attendant, not 
waiting for his lordship to cease speaking, and at the 
same time pointing to the end of the gallery, Avhere some 


146 THE KING^S DAUGHTERS. 

fifty or sixty people were assembled with their faces to 
the wall. 

“It is there?” repeated Lord Keith, in a puzzled tone. 
“What are yon driving at? You haven’t given me a 
chance to tell you what I wish to see yet. What’s 
there?” 

“ ‘ La Fleur de Foret,’ m’sieur,” returned the attendant, 
politely, “ That is the picture m’sieur wishes to find, is it 
not? Voila, it is there!” 

“Thanks!” returned his lordship, mystified by this re- 
sponse; then, in English, as he rejoined his party: “ Blest 
if I can understand all this,” he added. “First they stare 
you out of all countenance, Inez, and then they get a knack 
of reading my thoughts and answering questions before I 
ask them. ’ ’ 

“They are certainly acting very queerly,” interpolated 
Lady Blanche. “It is the strangest thing I ever wit- 
nessed. Wherever we go, they all stop and stare at us. 
Look ! somebody has told them that we are coming to view 
the ‘Flower of the Forest,’ and now every soul before it 
has turned to stare at us!" 

This was strictly true ; for, as if by some peculiar sys- 
tem of telegraph}'’, the group about the famous picture 
had been informed of her approach ; every man, woman, 
and child faced about and stared at Zillah as though she 
were a ghost. 

In silence my lord and the two ladies moved forward, 
in silence the crowd stared ; then, as if by tacit consent, 
the people fell back, making an avenue to the famous pict- 
ure, and determined to profit by this odd performance and 
get to the front where they could view the painting. Lord 
Keith spoke a few words to his wife and Lady Blanche, 
stalked down the avemie provided for their approach, 
lifted his eyes to the picture, and then stopped short and 
stared at it. 

-A- gypsy encampment under the forest trees— that was 
what he saw — the whole background agleam with the light 
of a full moon that struggled through a rack of clouds, and 
slanted its beams along the boles of the trees and the clust- 
ers of tents. 

In the foreground a knot of gypsies was grouped about 
the prostrate figure of a man— an artist, evidently, for 
his portfolio lay beside him, and his color-box hung by a 
leathern strap that passed across his shoulder. He lay 
at the foot of an embankment, his bloodstained head fall- 
ing over on the arm of a burly gypsy who knelt beside him 
in the act of pressing a tin cup to his lips, the moonlight 
slanting across his pale, handsome face, and his eyes fixed 
not upon the cup nor the man who proffered it, but on the 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


147 


figure of a girl, who stood just beyond. Her dross pro- 
claimed her to be a gypsy, even as the attitude of the man 
who stood beside her endeavoring to draw her back from 
the sight of the injured artist, proclaimed her to be a mem- 
ber of the same tribe. But what made the picture difficult 
of comprehension, was the fact that she held in her hand 
a small black mask, which she had either just removed 
from, or was just about to adjust to her face. 

And that face — my lord started as he saw it, and the 
blood rushed angrily up and reddened his own — that face, 
in every line and evei*y curve, was an exact reproduction 
of his wife’s. 

He turned and looked at her. 

She was standing there and staring at the picture as 
though it fascinated her; her lips were compressed, her 
great, terror-filled eyes were dilated, her face was ashen 
gray, and she was breathing hard like a hunted roe. 

My lady, too, was staring at the picture, bewildered 
and astonished by this unexpected contretemps, and but 
too plainly showing that her surprise was real, and she, 
too, had been ignorant of what the picture would re- 
veal. 

The crowd had now closed in about the astonished trio, 
and my lord’s angry eye detected the fact that every mem- 
ber of it was staring at his wife. But she, poor child, 
seemed not to realize it— the picture either fascinated or 
stupefied her, for she could only stand and stare at it with 
that look of mute despair. 

My lord moved briskly to her side and touched her 
arm. 

“It is shameful— it is outrageous!” he said through his 
shut teeth. “The rascal Avho has painted it has managed 
to obtain a portrait of you somehow, and has dared to put 
your features upon a vagabond gypsy. But if his idea is 
to force us into buying the picture. I’ll horsewhip him until 
he crawls to your feet and asks ” 

“Don’t!” she cried out, suddenly whirling as she spoke, 
and lifting two startled eyes to his angry face._ “ Don’t 
touch him, don’t bring him near me, Alaric. It will be 
better to hush it up before— before it gets into the papers 
and becomes notorious. Buy the picture— buy the picture 
and have it destroyed. I— I don’t care what it costs. I 
want that picture, Alaric, and— and I want to go home— 
oh, I want to go home !” 

He saw that she had been overcome by the shock, 
and drawing her hand through his arm, turned from 
the picture and led her away, the angry color still flush- 
ing his face, and the angry light still glowing in his 
eyes. 


148 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


At the bottom of the staircase he released her and 
turned to Lady Blanche. 

“ Assist her to the hotel, if you will be so kind, Lady 
Blanche,” he said, huskily. ” I’ll call the carriage, but I 
can’t go home with you now, Inez. ‘I must see that man, 
that painter, before an hour’s delay and know what the 
rascal means by taking such a liberty with the likeness of 
my wife!” 

” Oh, don’t tell him that, Alaric— don’t tell him that the 
picture is like me!" she panted excitedly. 

‘‘Decidedly I shall not, Inez,” he answered. “If the 
rascal’s idea is blackmail, I shall give him no clew to your 
identity, my dear; I’ll be more apt to give him a cowhid- 
ing than anything else, confound him. But here’s the 
caiTiage. Step in now, my darling, and get back to the 
hotel as quickly as possible. I can’t tell you when to ex- 
pect me, dear, but I won’t come home until I know that 
artist’s game.” 

“Tell him your wife has taken a fancy to it, Alaric,” 
she responded faintly. “ Buy it, no matter what it costs. 
I want that picture destroyed.” 

“My darling, don’t take it so much to heart, or you’ll 
make me want to throttle him for his audacity!” ex- 
claimed Lord Keith, as he assisted her into the carriage. 
“I know it’s a villainous piece of business to have your 
face attached to such an affair as that, and to be made no- 
torious as an artist’s model; but don’t fi’et yourself to 
death over it, sweet. The man who portrayed my wife as 
a vagabond gypsy shall either remedy the picture or an- 
swer to her husband!” 

Then closing the carriage door with a smart smack, he 
signaled the driver to move on, and a moment later the 
vehicle was bowling homeward through the sunshine of 
the October afternoon. 

Once out of sight and sound of her husband, all Zillah’s 
feeble strength seemed to desert her, and with a faint, 
wailing cry she dropped her head upon Lady Blanche’s 
shoulder and burst into stormy tears. 

“ Oh, why did we ever come to Paids?” she cried out in 
a voice of agony and terror. “ Why has that night come 
back from the past to haunt me?” 

“It happened, then?” exclaimed her ladyship, excitedly. 
“ Do you know who painted the picture?” 

“No!” responded Zillah, ina voice of despair. “I can’t 
tell who painted it, but — but it all happened just as you 
saw it ttiere. The artist must have become possessed of 
one of Miss Catheron’s pictui'es, and my sin has come back 
upon me through the likeness which has given me so much. 
When she lived I cheated her of her lover, and dead she 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


US 

comes back to rob me of my husband’s love; I feel it, I 
know it now. I have done a wrong, Blanche, and some 
•way I shall be made to atone for it!” 

Lady Blanche made no response. Fate or fortune had 
seen fit to aid her in a most miraculous way, and the smile 
which flickered about her lips told how grateful she was 
for the assistance. 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 

“criss-cross, the lines run.” 

Lord Keith stood upon the pavement and watched 
the retreating carriage until it was lost among the other 
vehicles that filled the crowded street, then with an ab- 
rupt movement, he faced about and stalked back to the 
salon. 

In the upper corridor he stopped suddenly, and taking 
his catalogue from the pocket into which he had thrust it 
when he led his wife away, he ran his eye down the list of 
pictures in quest of the name he sought. 

He came upon it at the bottom of the third page. 

“ 196—“ La Fleur de Foret,” par Mr. Robert Herndon.” 

“ Robert Herndon, eh?” repeated his lordship, as he re- 
folded the catalogue and thrust it back into his pocket. 
“ Well, Mr. Robert Herndon, I shall take the pains to find 
out where you hide your i-ascally head, and then to dis- 
cover what may be your little game. Hello ! there’s an at- 
tendant. I’ll step in and question him. Hi! stop a bit. I 
want a word with you, my man. I want to see Mr. Hern- 
don in reference to purchasing a picture. Can you direct 
me where to find his atelier?” 

“I will make inquiries, monsieur, if you will have the 
goodness to remain here a moment,” responded the attend- 
ant; then with a courteous bow he walked away and dis- 
appeared into the office of the directors. 

In less than five minutes he reappeared and proffered his 
lordship a small slip of pasteboard. 

“ Monsieur will find the addre.ss there,” he said, politely. 

‘ ‘ But I am requested to state that it is doubtful if Mr. 
Herndon still remains in Paris. He notified the directors 
to that effect this morning.” 

“Never mind. I’ll risk it!” returned his lordship, reso- 
lutely; then, as he glanced at the card and hurried out: 
“ ‘No. 27 Rue des Anges,’ eh?” he added. “You’re a 
pretty specimen to put in ‘ angel’s ’ quarters, you pettifog- 
ging scoundrel, and I’ll rout you out of them in blessed 
quick time, but what I’ll know what you mean by this 
piece of impertinence!” 

Then hailing a passing fiacre, ho leaped in, gave the 


150 THE KIN&S DAUGHTERS. 

driver his directions, and was rattled away to the Rue des 
Anges. 

It w^as striking four o’clock -when the man came to a 
halt before No. 27, and springing down, Lord Keith found 
himself standing in front of one of a row of small two- 
story frame buildings, all so exactly alike that they 
looked as though they had been turned out of a mold. 

Pushing open the gate of the trim wooden paling which 
inclosed the small square courtyard, his lordship stalked 
up the graveled walk, up the low wooden steps and rang 
for admittance. 

The door swung open, and there on the threshold stood 
the artist himself, and my lord looking up found his eye 
resting upon six feet of the manliest and most handsome 
type of manhood he had ever seen. 

Broad of shoulder, and powerful of limb, his dark hair 
cropped close, a superb mustache shading his handsome 
mouth, and his blue eyes looking frankly out of a frank, 
honest face, my lord saw a man distinctly American, and 
above all, a gentleman. 

“ I beg your pardon !'’ exclaimed Herndon in a full rich 
voice, and with an air that betokened breeding. “I beg 
your pardon, but may I ask the nature of your business, 
sir?” 

” I wish to see Mr. Robert Herndon,” responded his 
lordship. “ They told me at the salon that I might not be 
fortunate enough to find him at home, but am I wrong in 
inferring that he stands before me?” 

“You are quite correct, sir, I am Robert Herndon,” 
was the quiet response. “ I have but little tin>e to accord 
you, sir, for I’m in haste to start for Fontainbleu— indeed, 
but for a trifling delay which caused me to miss the train, 
I should have left two hours ago— but if you will step in. 
Lord Keith, I shall be pleased to give you all the time I 
can possibly spare. ’ ’ 

“You know me, then?” exclaimed his lordship, in sur- 
prise, as he crossed the threshold and followed Herndon 
into a small, neatly kept sitting-room. 

“I know you— yes,” was the smiling yet dignified re- 
sponse. “ I have a good memory for faces, and yours Avas 
pointed out to me one day at Cam Ruth some two years 
ago. Pardon me if I do not offer you any refreshments, 
sir, but we keep no servants, my mother and I ; and as she is 
sleeping at present, and I in too much haste to spare the 
time to do a servant’s duty at present, you will, I am sure, 
overlook the omission.” 

“Oh, do not let that bother you in the least,” returned 
Lord Keith, his feelings warming, in spite of himself, to 
this handsome, manly fellow, who neither shrunk from 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


151 


confessing his poverty nor showed any disposition to avoid 
the plain, unvarnished truth. “ I shall not detain you 
long, Mr. Herndon. I merely called to speak with you in 
regard to your now famous picture, and to ask a few ques- 
tions in regard to it. I believe that you will be frank 
enough with me to confess the truth and tell me who was 
the original of your gypsy maiden, and how you came to 
give her that face. I have a reason for asking it, Mr. 
Herdon — a reason which, since I have seen you, I believe 
you would respect if you knew the truth. Will you gen- 
erously tell me whom you took for your model?” 

Herndon’s frank eyes never fell. 

“I will tell you, yes, Lord Keith,” he answered, “I 
took for my model the one woman I shall ever love, the 
one woman for whom T shall always seek, and whose face 
I saw only as you see it in the painting.” 

Lord Keith started and glared sharply upward. 

‘‘I do not comprehend your words, sir,” he said, in sur- 
prise, ‘‘Do you mean that you saw a woman with that 
pure, high-bred face, and who was a gypsy f 

‘‘ I mean that— yes, Lord Keith. As you see her in the 
picture, so I saw her in the realization of it. The whole 
scene is painted from memory, and reproduced just as it 
actually happened. I have altered it in but one point. The 
face of the injured artist should have been my own. but 
for reasons that must be obvious to you I refrained from 
producing it. 

‘‘I do not know the original of the gypsy maiden. I 
saw her but that once, Loi'd Keith; but if you believe in 
destiny, you will say with me that I saw her never to for- 
get her, nor yet to find another who will fill the place 
made vacant by her in that one night, 

‘‘ It happened while I was on a sketching tour in Wales, 
two years ago, and something like a fortnight after I saw 
you. Belated and overtaken by the darkness, I lost my 
Avay and stumbled down an embankment. The force of 
the blow rendered mo insensible, and from the moment of 
my fall I knew no more until I opened my eyes upon the 
original of the picture you have seen. 

‘‘ Only for a moment did I see that girl’s face, but the 
memory of that moment will cling to me all the daj^s of 
my life. Wliy she should be masked, or why the people 
of her tribe should be so anxious to get her out of my sight 
I know no more than you. All I saw you have seen in that 
picture. It was only a momentary glance, but I thought 
then, as I think now, and as I will continue to think to the 
day of my death, that I looked upon the loveliest of human 
faces, and looked to love it all my life long. 

” Unfortunatelj’’ for me, I swooned again almost on the 


152 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


instant, and although the gypsies gave me shelter and at- 
tention throughout the night, and were good to me in all 
other ways, I could glean nothing from them relative to 
that girl. They laughed at me Avhen I spoke of her, and 
told me I had imagined the whole scene — that no such girl 
existed, and that I was the victim of a delusion. 

“ What strange reason they had for concealing the truth 
I cannot imagine, but I knew then as I know now, and as 
surely as I shall prove when I find her, that that girl ex- 
isted, and I saw her face, 

“Shortly afterward the tribe vanished, and I was never 
able to trace it, although I have been ceaseless in my en- 
deavors to do so. Night and day that face haunted me, 
until, in the hope that it would give me some clew to her, 
I painted that picture and exhibited it. The bare fact that 
I never painted its equal before, and never shall be able to 
do so again, tempts me to believe that I was inspired. Lord 
Keith. It is not for sale; poor as I am, no amount of 
money on this earth could tempt me to part with it. I 
shall keep it until I find the original, and she shall sell it 
for her wedding-dower. And I tvill find her. Lord Keith, 
if it takes me a lifetime. I will find her and tell her that 
this ‘ Flower of the Forest ’ has blossomed in my heart to 
live there forever!” 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 

“ LIES FATE BEFORE THEE — GO THY WAYS!” 

All the while Herndon had been speaking his lordship 
sat with his eyes fixed upon the artist’s face — a not un- 
natural conviction gradually taking shape in his mind, as 
ho listened to this strange story, and the still stranger be- 
lief of its narrator— and, although he made no response 
when Herndon at length ceased speaking, his thoughts 
were busy, and he was silently wondering if this hand- 
some, manly-looking artist were not mentally deranged. 

The story itself certainly gave color to such a belief, and 
that color was heightened by Herndon’s assertion that he 
would search until he found the mysterious gypsy 
maiden, whose face he had seen only for a second of time, 
and then proceeded to lay his talents and his heart at her 
feet. 

“ Poor fellow! he is quite ‘gone’!” thought his lord- 
ship, as he glanced over Herndon’s superb physique. 
“What a pity! He is certainly one of the most superb 
specimens of manhood I ever saw, and his face takes my 
fancy out of hand. But there can be no doubt regarding 
his insanity, and I have my own ideas as to the original 
of his famous picture. Ten to one he has seen Inez some- 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


153 


where; his marvelous memory for faces has aided him in 
producing a perfect likeness of her, and all the rest of his 
story has been born of his weakened brain. His mania 
does not seem to take a very desperate shape, but for 
Inez’s sake, as well as for my own, I must take every pre- 
caution to keep him from discovering the truth.” 

All this my lord had said mentally— allowing neither 
word nor look to betray the conviction which had stolen 
over him relative to the diseased state of the handsome 
artist’s brain, and feeling that it would be better to humor 
the fancy than to scoff at it, he said, presently : 

“ Your experience has, certainly, been a very odd one, 
Mr. Herndon, and I can only hope that you will be suc- 
cessful in finding the woman you so persistently seek. 
When I asked you Avho you had chosen for the original of 
your gypsy maiden, I simply did so because the face im- 
pressed me as being one of the most beautiful I had ever 
seen. I did not wish to intrude upon the ‘ sacred spot ’ 
which lies in every man’s heart, and I had no idea to what 
my question would lead.” 

” Lord Keith need not trouble himself to tell me that,” 
responded Herndon, smilingly. ” His face will bear wit- 
ness to the honesty of his character and the uprightness 
of his motive. Still, you must not imagine me a silly gab- 
bler who tells his woes to all who approach him. When 
you came to me. and questioned me, I told 3^011 the story 
simply because I knew that you were in Cam Ruth at the 
same time she was there, and I hoped that 3'ou, too, had 
seen this mysterious and beautiful gypsy, and could give 
me some clew to her present whereabouts. I see now that 
it was a vain hope, sir, and I am sorry that I bored you 
by repeating the story.” 

“ You have not bored me, Mr. Herndon ; on the contrary, 

I have been exceedingly interested,” responded his lord- 
ship, politely. “lam sorry, however, that the picture is 
endeared to you by such indissoluble bonds, for Lady 
Keith has taken a wonderful fancy for it, and would pur- 
chase it at any price.” 

"'Lady Keith!” repeated Herndon with some surprise. 
“One may congratulate you then, upon having become a 
Benedict since I last saw you. Still, I might have guessed as 
much, you were so constantl.y in the company of that beau- 
tiful brunette at Cam Ruth, I do not recollect having heard 
the lady’s name, but her tendresse for Lord Keith was 
manifest to the most casual observer. May I offer my 
congratulations, sir?” 

Lord Keith smiled and nodded in the affirmative. 

If Herndon chose to imagine that he had married Lady 
Blanche Hay, so much the better, he thought. 


154 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


At any rate it would throw him off the track, and act as 
a safeguard to tlie wife he wished to screen. 

“Yes, I have married Since you last saw me, Mr, Hern- 
don,” he acknowledged ; then, as an afterthought and in 
case the artist might hear of the fact or see some allusion 
to it in public print: “ In fact, I may say that we are even 
now upon our bridal tour, sir, and my wife was formerly 
Miss Inez Catheron, granddaughter of Lord Dari’el Glau- 
dore.” 

“I have heard of Miss Catheron,” responded Herndon, 
“ heard of her as one of the richest heiresses of all Eng- 
land.” 

Lord Keith smiled and nodded again. 

“Yes,” he said, “ her wealth has enabled her to humor 
her slightest whim throughout her entire life, Mr. Hern- 
don, and knowing that, you can readily understand how 
hard she will take the intelligence that she cannot pur 
chase your picture after she has set her heart upon hav- 
ing it !” 

“I am very sorry, Lord Keith, but I cannot sell it. It 
is to be the gift which secures the dower of my bride, and 
if Lady Keith could only wait until my marriage day, it 
may become hers after all !” 

“There is some consolation in that, certainly, Mr. Hern- 
don,” responded his lordship. “ Still, it will be a constant 
source of regret to Lady Keith to be confronted by it 
every time she visits the salon, and yet know that she can- 
not possess it. If it were where she could not see it, pos- 
sibly it would not prey upon her mind so much, and, but 
that I am certain you would regret such a proposition, I 
Avould offer you almost any price to have it removed from 
the walls of the salon during our sojourn in Paris. But 
that of course is hopeless,” 

“Not so hopeless as you might think,” responded 
Herndon. “ How long do you propose remaining in Paris, 
sir?” 

“ One month, Mr. Herndon. Our bridal tour ends here, 
and at the expiration we shall return at once to Eng- 
land.” 

“Very well, the picture then shall be removed from the 
saZon to-morrow, sir,” responded Herndon, “and it shall 
not be exhibited again so long as Lady Keith remains in 
Paris !’ ’ 

“ My dear fellow, do you really mean it?” exclaimed his 
lordship, starting from his seat and wringing Robert Hern- 
don’s hand. “Upon my word, I am a thousand-fold 
obliged to you, Mr. Herndon. Tell me what price you ask 
for this stupendous favor, and I will send you a check for 
the sum this very night,” 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


155 


“My prise? Nothing, Lord Keith!” returned Herndon, 
with a smile. ‘ ‘ I am not so poor but I can afford to do a 
favor for my fellow- man without being paid for it, sir. 
And now as this has placed me under the necessity of 
writing an order for the picture's instant removal before 
starting for Fontainbleu, will you be offended if I ask you 
to put an end to our interview at once? I have only a few 
minutes to spare before I must be off— 1 have a commis- 
sion to paint a forest scene for Le Comte de Vandroy, 
sir, and I am told there are some wonderful old trees at 
Fontainbleu. I wish to sketcli some of them, and if I 
miss the opportunity to start to-day something may inter- 
fere to-morrow. Good -afternoon. Lord Keith. If you 
will do me the honor to call upon me again during your 
stay in Paris, I shall be most happy to see you, sir.” 

“Thank you,” returned his lordsliip, as he wrung the 
artist's hand ; then, after a few hurried remarks, he took 
up his hat, bowed himself out of the house, and stepped 
into the waiting fiacre. 

Left to himself, Robert Herndon’s first act was to sit 
down and scrawl a note to the directors of the Salon de 
Paris, ordering the instant removal of “La Fleur de 
Foret,” then dashing up-stairs, he stalked into his own 
room, strapped together his camp -stool and easel, slung his 
portfolio across his shoulder, and was just in the act of 
searching for his hat when the door swung open softly, 
and a sweet-faced, sweet-mannered lady of two- or three- 
and-fifty came gently into the room. 

“Helio, mother! Awake, eh?” smiled Herndon, good- 
humoredly. “ I was just going to steal in and kiss you 
good-bye while you were asleep, dear, and now you’ve 
saved me the trouble. Do hunt up my hat for me, there’s 
a dear. You know what a blind old bat I am when it 
comes to searching for anything,” 

“ Tliat’s because you throw everything about the place 
as soon as you take it off, Robert,” smiled his mother. 
“Here’s your hat, under the bed, where I dare say you 
threw it when you came in this afternoon. I don’t know 
what in the world you will ever do when I get too old to 
see for j’^ou.” 

“ Oh, well, perhaps I shall have found her by that time, 
dear,” he answered gayly : “ and then, what it still better, 
perhaps she will cure me of my shiftless tricks and teach 
me how to be tidy.” 

Mrs. Herndon’s face saddened visibly, and something 
like a sigh passed her lips. 

“Oh, Robert, I’m afraid that you are only pursuing a 
phantom, my son,'’ she said gravely. “I’m afraid that 
what those gypsies told you is true, after all— you only 


156 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


imagined that you saw the beautiful creature whose face 
you have since painted, and if I could only reason yoaout 
of this folly which is spoiling the best years of your man- 
hood ” 

“ It’s a hopeless case, I’m afraid, mother mine!” he in- 
terrupted, laughingly. ” Now, then, kiss me good-bye like 
a dear good soul, and don’t worry about it any moi-e. I 
sha’n’t be gone long, dear— not over two days at most— 
so you’ll have a chance to take a nice quiet rest while your 
nuisance is out of the house.” 

“Not my nuisance — my blessing. Eobert,” she answered, 
with a loving glance ; then, slipping into the clasp of his 
great strong arms, she kissed him fondly, wished him 
Godspeed, and then let him go. 

Stopping only to call a commissionaire and intrust him 
with the letter to the directors of the saZon, Herndon strode 
away in the direction of the railway station, and some 
twenty minutes later he was wheeling away toward 
Fontainbleu and going fast as steam could bear him to an 
experience he was fated to remember all the days of his 
after-life. 


CHAPTER XXXV. 

“ THE BEST LAID PLANS OF MICE AND MEN,” ETC. 

The dusk of the October evening had shut in when Rob- 
ert Herndon alighted at his destination, and making his 
way through the rural streets of the quaint, picturesque 
old town of Fontainbleu to an inn which bore the singular 
name of La Main Rouge emblazoned upon its sign-board, 
over an exaggerated human hand painted in bright scar- 
let, he engaged lodgings, and ordered supper served at 
once. 

It was, of course, too late now to think of attending to 
the business which brought him to this charming district; 
and, as he knew from experience that a day’s sketching 
meant a day’s ti-amping, he retired early, in order to 
have a sufficient rest before the arduous task of to-mor- 
row. 

Never a late sleeper, he was up at five o’clock, break- 
fasted, had his luncheon packed up, and set off at once 
for the world-famous Forest of Fontainbleu, returning 
at nightfall, dusty, tired out, and a trifle disappointed at 
having found nothing especially worthy of being perpet- 
uated On canvas. 

” Deuce take your Forest of Fontainbleu! It isn’t fit to 
be mentioned in the same day with the forests of Amer- 
ica,” he grumbled, when mine host asked him over the 
supper table how the scenery had impressed him. “ Here 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


157 


I have been ti-amping through briars and over rocks and 
Heaven knows what else for over eight liours, and I am 
blessed if I can find anything worth sketching, beyond 
one or two ‘ bits,’ that don’t pay for the trouble. If I had 
been in an American forest, now, I’d have run over car 
loads of subjects in half the time. For all I could discov- 
er, there isn’t a tree in the place worth reproducing.” 

” Trees !” repeated mine host, in evident chagiun. ” Ah ! 
m’sieur, it is all trees. Ma foi ! it is ze tree-est place for 
trees in ze whole world— zat Fontainbleu. M’sieur can 
no haf been so far in as ze King’s Walk and ze Glen of ze 
Nymphs. 

“Oh, zere is ze trees, m’sieur! Zere is ze glory — ze 
beautifulness — ze— ze — what you call him in ze Anglaese? 
Oui—oui! ze pride— zat is him. Zere, m’sieur, is— is ze 
pride of Fontainbleu, zat Nymphs’ Glen.” 

“ How far is it?” demanded Kobert, glancing up. “ Can 
I reach it in any respectable time if I start early? How 
shall I go? I’m blessed if I know in what direction your 
Nymphs’ Glen lies, landlord.” 

“ Ah! zen I shall have ze great plashair of placing my- 
self at ze sairvace of m’sieur to-morrow,” I’esponded mine 
host, glad of an opportunity to add a few francs to the 
bill, and at the same time vindicate the outraged dignity 
of Fontainbleu. 

“We shall rise with ze sun, m’sieur’s pleshair, and 
we will drive till we reach ze end of ze King’s Walk — 
where a wagon can no further go— then m’sieur shall go 
ze rest of ze way on ze foot until he reach ze place where 
ze so grand trees do grow, and I will wait wiss ze wagon 
till he shall come back !” 

This arrangement suited Robert, insomuch as it would 
save him the trouble of tramping over that part of the 
forest which he had already visited with so little success, 
and having completed all arrangements with the land- 
lord, he walked up to his own room and lost no time in 
tumbling into bed and resting his weary limbs. 

He slept that sweet, dreamless sleep which only comes 
of perfect health — slept, unconscious of the fact that he 
had reached the turning point in his young life, and that 
to-morrow was marked as his day of destiny. 

At five o’clock mine host came up to call him, and 
found him already partially dressed, and after having 
disposed of a hearty breakfast, and ascertained that his 
lunch-box was well supplied, Robert bundled his “traps,” 
as he called them, into the wagon, climbed in after them, 
and was soon bowling in the direction of the forest. 

It was close to seven o’clock when they reached the 
forest, and mine host, who knew all the shorter cuts, 


158 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


lost no time in reaching the entrance to the King’s Walk 
(so named because it was a favorite with Louis XIV.), 
which proved, upon acquaintance, to be a very ordinary 
road through the woods, chiefly remarkable for the fact 
that, for the greater part of its length, it was bordered by 
a double row of poplars— those prim old maids of the 
forest — and certainly offered no attraction to “ the eye 
artistic.” 

A little after eight o’clock they reached the end of the 
King’s Walk, and here, as the shrubbery was too dense 
and the rocks too massive for the wagon to proceed fur- 
ther. the landlord informed him that the journey must be 
continued afoot. 

“ Zere, m’sieur, follow zat way for about a mile!” ex- 
claimed the landlord; “zen, when you reach the place 
where zere grows a dead tree on one leetle green mound, 
turn to ze right, and keep on till you come to ze glen. I 
will light my pipe and stay here until m’sieur shall i*e- 
turn.” 

“Better go home and come back for me this evening,” 
advised Eobert, as he jumped down and removed his ef- 
fects from the wagon. “I shall probably wander around 
all day, and there’s no need for you to remain here. 
Come back for me at five o’clock, and I’ll meet you at 
this place. How is the walking beyond there? It looks 
very wild. Any dangerous spots on the way to the 
glen?” 

“Not when I was zere last, m’sieur; but zat is six or 
seven years, and ic may haf changed.” 

“Well, yes— rather!” returned Eobert, with a laugh; 
then, with a final word of parting, he plunged into the 
deptlis of the forest, and left mine host to drive home 
alone. 

For over an hour Herndon walked along, vainly looking 
for the “dead tree on one leetle mound,” (which mine 
host recollected seeing six or seven years ago), then, as he 
became aware that the ground was becoming marshy, and 
instead of a glen he was getting into a swamp, it suddenly 
occurred to him that a tree which was dead some six or 
seven years ago might have fallen and rotted into noth- 
ingness by tins time, and facing about, he began to retrace 
his steps. 

“Deuce take the fellow; why didn’t he give me some 
more substantial landmark as a guide-post!” he muttered. 
“ I must have walked two or three miles instead of one, 
and I’m hanged if I see the dead tree yet. I’ll get out of 
this swampy j^art of the woods, and then strikeout on my 
own hook, and maybe I’ll blunder into the glen in spite of 
myself,” 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 159 


Vain hope! 

From nine o’clock until two he wandered about the 
woods; going first in this direction and then in that, until 
he had lost all i-eckoning, then, having stumbled across a 
“bit” that he thought worth sketching, he first disposed 
of his luncheon, then opened his portfolio and went to 
work. 

Half an hour’s application finished the sketch. He 
packed it away in his portfolio and resumed his tramp- 
much pleased to discover another and yet another “ bit ” 
as he progressed, and in this way the afternoon wore on. 

It was very close to four o’clock when he did stumble 
across it — a deep ravine that was one long vista of beauty 
—and the grandeur of it amply repaid him for all that he 
had previously endured. 

“By Jove I I must have that rock bit with the moss 
and the trickling water!” he exclaimed, delightedly, 
“ And that clump of chestnuts, too, I can’t miss that. No, 
nor that tree yonder, with the vines wrapping its trunk 
and festooning its boughs. Why the deuce didn’t I strike 
this spot sooner? It’s a perfect bower of beauty, and I 
must get all I can of it while the daylight lasts !” 

He proceeded to do so without delay, but the daylight 
waned before he had sketched one-third of what he 
wanted, and willy-nilly, he knew he must go. 

“Now then, for Old Renault and the wagon!” he ex- 
claimed, as he packed away his sketches and strapped his 
portfolio across his shoulder. “ I sha’n’t be sorry to ride 
to the inn, that’s certain, for I’m pretty well fagged out 
now !” 

In his aimless wanderings, however, he had lost all 
reckoning, and, try as he might, it was impossible to de- 
termine in which direction lay the King’s Walk. 

“ By George! I’ve lost myself, and I don’t know which 
way to turn!” he exclaimed, vexatiously. “There are 
pleasanter things than being lost in the forest of Fontain- 
bleu, and night coming on, that’s certain, and if there’s 
any way of oMaining them. I’ll do my best to discover it !” 

But his “ best ” proved poor, indeed, for turn which 
way he might, he saw nothing that looked like the King’s 
Walk, and shout as he would, nothing but the echoes gave 
answei’. 

The darkness steadily increased, and finally night shut 
down— pitch black — and he knew he could go no further 
until the moon rose. 

“ It’s no use shouting, for Old Renault has never waited 
this long!” he muttered, dismally, as he threw himself 
down upon the ground and stretched out his tired limbs— 
“ I’m in for it this time, that’s certain 1’* 


160 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


At eight o’clock the yoimg October moon rose, and he 
again resumed his wanderings, and this time with better 
success, for he suddenly stumbled upon a I’oad, and know- 
ing that it certainly must lead him in a more direct way 
than blundering about among the trees, he gladly followed 
it, not caring where it led, so that he got out of the woods. 

At the expiration of two hours of. swift walking, to his in- 
tense jojs he perceived that the forest was growing less 
dense, that the trees were fewer and further apart ; and 
knowing by this that he was fast nearing the borders, he 
dropped into a jog trot, and was soon delighted to catch a 
glimpse of green hills and lonely meadow land. 

“The end at last, thank Heaven!” he exclaimed, as he 
emerged from the forest and found himself in a sort of 
gap between the hills, and through which the i*oad he had 
been following led in a direct line. “This is not Fontain- 
bleu ; I must have come out on the other side of the forest, 
and I am further off than ever from the place I want to 
reach. Confound such ill luck! I must have stumbled 
into the Pampeau Road which runs from Fontainbleu 
straight through the forest to Vallaine— distance of twen- 
ty-one miles — and it will be probably close to morning be- 
fore I reach the village or come in sight of a habitation. 
Well, I must make the best of it, I suppose, and trudge 
along until I find some place of shelter, even if I do keep 
on going further away from Fontainbleu with every step. 
Anything is better than spending a night in that infernal 
forest, and I ought to thank my lucky stars that I’ve es- 
caped it, after all. By George! how the good mother 
would worry, bless her, if she knew what a pickle her boy 
is in to-night.” 

He laughed as he thought of it, but his laughter was of 
short duration. 

He had, while speaking, been striding along the road, 
which the faint glow of the young moon but dimly lighted, 
and in the very midst of that laughter which his thoughts 
had called up. Fate took him and whirled him on to the 
climax o£ that night's ventures. 

A sudden cry — shrill, agonizing, dreadful— that was the 
thing which heralded it— the shriek of a woman suffering 
either mental or bodily torture; that he knew, and realiz- 
ing it, he stopped short with a sudden gasp, and something 
cold seemed to creep through his hair and run down his 
back. 

He whirled and glanced at the spot from which the cry 
arose, but in the dim light nothing was visible save a thick 
wall of immense chestnut-trees close to the borders of the 
foi’est. 

“Just Heaven, what a shriek!” he gasped, in a dull 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


161 


voice of horror, “ It was a woman’s voice, or else 

There it goes again. Some poor creature is in need of as- 
sistance,” 

He never stopped to count the cost of the step after that 
— he only realized that a woman was in j)eril, and, realiz- 
ing it, rushed to her aid. 

Flinging aside his coat and portfolio, he sprung for- 
wai*d with one vigorous bound and raced like a madman 
in the direction of the sci'eams which were now ringing 
' forth and making the night hideous with their awful 
sound. 

In less than a minute he had reached the wall of chest- 
nuts, plunged through it, and stood before a house. 

It was a small, two-story structure built of gray stone 
and entirely sun’ounded by a high stone wall, some ten 
feet beyond which the clump of chestnuts stood. 

It was from behind this wall— which formed a quad- 
rangle, in the midst of which the house stood — that the 
shrieks were rising — that Robert realized in an instant: 
but that realization was as nothing compared to the one 
which burst upon him a moment later. 

The horrible guttural laughter of male voices, accom- 
panied by the cracking of a whip and the agony of a 
woman’s shideks — these added to the ever varying location 
of the sounds — now near, now far — told hiin the dreadful 
truth — a woman was being pursued and beaten all around 
the inclosure. 

“ Help! help! help!” he could hear her cry, as he stood 
there under the shadow of the wall. “Help! murder! 
help! You cowards, let me go!” 

And even as she spoke— blending its coarse notes of 
devilish exultation with the cracking of the whip and the 
woman’s cries of pain : 

‘‘Try to escape again, will you !” exclaimed a man’s 
rasping voice. ‘‘Give it to her again, Antoine. Let her 
taste Avhat medicine we keep for people that manage to 
steal into the yard and try to scale the wall. Lash her 
well! lash her well — the daring one. Oho! you’ll try it 
again, will you, eh, mademoiselle!” 

The cracking of whips and the shrieks of pain sounded 
again, mingled with the brute laughter of the woman’s 
pursuers, and with a sick sensation of horror Robert 
covered his ears. 

‘‘My God! I can’t stand this,” he panted, in a hoarse 
voice. ‘‘ They’re lashing some poor creature for trying to 
escape from this hideous house, and something must be 
done to save her from those human — devils!” 

He glanced at the Avail. It Avas fully fifteen feet high 


162 THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 

and surmounted by a forest of broken glass stuck in 
mortar. 

No hope of scaling that, and he knew it, 
iThen he glanced at the row of chestnuts standing ten 
feet in advance of the wall, saw that some few of their 
boughs reached beyond the line of the wall, but far above 
it, and without an instant’s hesitation chose his course. 

Springing toward one of the trees, he flung his power- 
ful arms about it, twined his sturdy limbs around its 
shaggy trunk, and so, with those cries ringing in his , 
ears the while, inch by inch, worked his way up until he 
grasped the lower branches. 

It was easier work after that, and although he could 
noio see as well as hear what was going on in the quad- 
rangle, he set his teeth firmly, and silently climbed up- 
ward until his hands had closed upon one far-reaching 
branch some five or six feet above the summit of the wall. 

He crawled out upon it, until his w^eight began to tell 
upon it and make it bow, and then wdth a sick sense of 
horror and despair, realized that he could not hope to 
reach its end, and drop withiii the quadrangle. 

“My God! I cannot let this thing goon!” he groaned 
as the voices rang out anew, and by the faint light of the 
moon he saw the slim girlish figure staggering onward, 
and vainly trying to escape the two men, who pursued 
her, whip in hand, and rained blows upon her tortured 
body. “Let the risk be what it will, I must cross that 
wall and save her !” 

Onward the woman came, and onward rushed her pur- 
suers at her very heels. 

For one moment Herndon paused irresolute; then, with 
a sudden movement, he gripped the bough, swung his 
body free, let it dangle for a second as he edged his way 
along — hand over hand, as close to the edge as he dare 
trust the branch— than swaying back and forth, until he 
had acquired the proper impetus, he suddenly launched 
himself forward, released his grasp upon his frail sup- 
port, and clearing the wall by a hair’s breadth landed 
with a dull, heavy sound within the inclosure. 

He was up and on his feet in an instant; then, with the 
quickness of a lightning flash, he leaped upon the nearest 
man, his powerful fits came with a smash against the 
brute’s face, and sent him flying backward to the earth, 
stunned, bleeding, unconscious. 

It had all come so quickly and so unexpectedl.y, that 
before the other scoundrel could take to his heels this 
powerful interloper was upon him, something that felt 
like a mallet flew out and struck him upon nose and mouth, 
he went backward as though shot out of a cataplut. 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


163 


crashed against the wall, and dropped at its foot a mere 
heap of bleeding flesh, robbed of the vital spark— con- 
sciousness. 

With a scream of sudden delight, the tortured woman 
sprung toward Robert. 

“Save me! save me! sir, for Heaven’s sake!” she 
cried. 

But even as she spoke, his voice— full of a wilder joy — 
rose above hers, and springing forward, he caught her in 
his arms. 

“At last!” he cried excitedly. “ My darling! my dar- 
ling! Heaven is good to me, and I have found you, my 
beloved, at last!” 


CHAPTER XXXVI. 

“ MARRY, BUT HERE’S A VIXEN.” 

Filled with an intense satisfaction, for his wife’s sake, 
and an intense sorrow for Robert Herndon, to whom he 
had taken a sincere and honest liking, despite the feeling 
which had impelled him to visit the artist. Lord Keith 
drove back to the hotel, and lost no time in hurrying to 
Zillah’s presence. 

He found her in the company of Lady Blanche, looking 
pale and troubled, and her eyes betraying unmistakable 
signs of weeping, and the sight of her sorrowful face cut 
him so keenly that he could not refrain from rushing to 
her side and gathering her in his arms. 

“Why, my darling, my darling! what is this?” he ex- 
claimed, as he kissed her and patted her beautiful golden 
head, which fell forward on his bosom. “Tears, Inez, and 
our honeymoon not yec over! Sweet, you must not let lit- 
tle things trouble you like this. I know it was annoying 
to have your portrait, or what seemed to he your portrait, 
put upon exhibition in a public gallery (and worst of all in 
the chai’acter of a vagabond), but it was hardly worth tak- 
ing so much to heart, dearest.” 

“Ah. Alaric, you are so good to me!” murmured Zillah, 
with a fresh burst of tears. “ It was of you, I thought the 
worst. You seemed so hurt when you saw the picture and 
it — it has worried me ever since.” 

“Not so much hurt as indignant, Inez,” he answered. 
“The idea of representing you as a low-lived gypsy! But 
there, dry your eyes, my darling, and don’t waste another 
thought upon the subject. Everything has been arranged. 
I have seen Mr. Herndon, and the picture will be removed 
from the walls of the salon to-morrow morning.” 

“You purchased it, then, Alaric? Oh, I am so glad!” 

“My dear, I didn’t purcliase it, simply because the artr 


164 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS, 


ist wouldn’t sell it for any amount of money; but, by dint 
of a little stratogem, I have managed to get it removed. 
Now. then, sit down, and I will tell you all about it, 
dear.” 

Thus admonished, Zillah dropped softly into a seat, and 
plunging into the affair without further preface, her hu.s- 
band told her of his interview with Robert Herndon, and 
the curious story of the artist’s infatuation. 

“The man is out of his senses, my darling,” he con- 
cluded, “there can be no doubt about it. He has proba- 
bly seen you at some time, and your dear face has made 
an impression upon his weak intellect. Not that you 
would suspect for an instant that it was weak, Inez, for he 
talks rationally upon all other subjects, and he is such a 
fine, manly fellow one cannot help admiring him. In these 
degenerate days of old jmung men, it seems such a pity 
that so magnificent a specimen of all that is truly manly 
should be blighted and spoiled by a cur.se like that. But 
there, we won’t talk about the matter any more, and I 
really ought to have known better than to tell you the en- 
tire story, for I can see that poor Herndon’s singular in- 
fatuation distresses you. There is no cause for Avorry, is 
there, Lady Blanche?” 

“Oh, dear, no, not the slightest!” responded her lady- 
ship, taking the hint. “ Since this poor fellow believes 
that I am the fortunate creature Avhom Lord Keith mar- 
ried, he will not have any interest in discoA^cring Avhat the 
former Miss Inez Catheron looks like, my dear, so I 
Avouldn’t Avaste another thought upon the matter if I Avere 
you.” 

“Then I shall not!” responded Zillah, brightening at 
once. “ You are both so good to me and so careful, that 
I know you Avill not let me fall into danger.” 

“Spoken like a sensible Avoman, my darling!” smiled 
his lordship, as he bent and kissed her. “ And uoav, since 
I have been fortunate enough to secure a box for the 
opera to-night, and the afternoon is fast declining, I think 
you had better take a quiet rest, ladies, before you begin 
dressing.” 

“Are Ave then going to the opera, Alaric?” inquired Zil- 
lah, nervously. “I am almost afraid to risk it. You 
know hoAv people stared at me to-day, and if this Mr. 
Herndon should happen to be there ” 

“Dear Inez, don’t you recollect av hat his lordship said 
but a feAv moments ago?” interrupted Lady Blanche, sweet- 
ly. “This poor fellow has gone to Fontainbleu to make 
some sketches for a future painting. Besides, he con- 
fessed his poverty, and poor people are not apt to squander 
their money in listening to operas, dear. As for any rep- 


THE KING^S DAUGHTERS. 


165 


etition of the sharing nuisance, you can easily remedy that 
by sitting back in the box where the curtains will screen 
you. Don’t spoil our party, dear, for there really is no 
danger, I assure you. What is the opera to-night, Lord 
Keith?” 

‘ ‘ ‘ La Favorita. ’ ’ ’ 

“ Ah ! Indeed?” — sweetly. ” The story of a woman who 
deceived her lover, and who, while pretending to be all 
that was pure and noble, Avas, in. reality, a low, despicable 
wretch. Ah! you will enjoy ‘La Favorita,’ Inez — the 
music is so grand. But I must run away now and give a 
few thoughts to the gown I am to wear to-night.” 

Then, dropping a cool, little kiss upon Zillah’s forehead, 
she spoke a few bantering words to Lord Keith, fluttered 
out of the room, and went tripping away to her OAvn 
apartments. 

Once inside of her private parlor, she hastily bolted the 
door, so that her maid might not intrude upon her privacy, 
souglit and found her pretty, inlaid writing-desk, and, 
sinking down with it upon her knee, hastily prepared to 
indite a letter. 

‘‘The time has come, you puling turtle-doves!” she 
murmured, with a sneer. ‘‘I have waited for it a long 
while, but now it has come at last, and before many days 
my vengeance will find you out!” 

Then dipping the pen into the ink, she bent over the 
tablet, and upon the slieet of note-paper she had placed 
in readiness, hastily Avrote this: 

‘‘To-night at the opera Avithout fail. At the left of the 
doorway after the performance is over. 

“ Maggie.” 

She ran the blotter over the Avritten sheet, folded it, 
slipped it into an eiiA^elope, and addressed it: 

“Mr. Mark Talford, 

“ No. 36 Rue des Morillons, Paris.” 

Sealing the letter carefully, she arose, rung for a 
servant, and gave it to him, accompanied by some pieces 
of silver. 

“ Give this letter to a commissionaire, and bid him de- 
liver it immediately.” she said; then, as the door closed 
and the man took his departure: 

“Keith, your days of peace are over!” then added, with 
a soft, purring laugh: “iify triumph begins to- night!” 

>(: * sK * * * * 

The first act of “La Favorita ” was just ending. 

Lord Keith’s party arrived at the opera-house and 
filed into the box as the finale occupied the attention of 
everybody; to Zillah’s intense satisfaction, she passed in 


166 


THE KINHS DAUGHTERS. 


and took her seat without being noticed, save by one or 
two persons, who evidently had not seen “ La Fleur de 
Foret,” since they did not accord her more than a brief, 
passing glance. 

As yet, Zillah, who loved music passionately, had not 
reached that fashionable state where the opera is regarded 
as an excuse for displaying sumptuous toilets, to enjoying 
the companionship of" one’s friends, w’ith an occasional 
listless glance at the stage when some well-i emembered 
passage was reached; and to her “La Favorita’' took the 
shape of a rare musical treat. 

She listened to it, absorbed wuth interest from first to 
last, and when the final curtain fell, a long, low sigh of 
regret escaped her trembling lips. 

“Oh, Alaric, I am so glad we came!” she said; “ I have 
enjoyed it so much. Can we not come again to-morrow 
night? See” — holding up her programme— “ ‘ Dinorah ’ 
is announced, and I should so like to hear it.” 

“So you shall, dear, if you wish it,” he murmured, as 
he folded her opera cloak about her white shoulders. 
“My only wish is to see you happy, and we will come 
every night, if it pleases you.” 

“I should like that,” she answered with a smile; then, 
slipping her hand through his arm, she passed out with 
him to the waiting carriage. 

My lady, who had persuaded them to allow the greater 
portion of the crowd to leave the theater before they 
started (under the plea that there would be less chance for 
a repetition of the staring annoyance), followed close at 
their heels, her hawk-like eyes flashing eagerly to the 
doorway as they emerged into the lobby, and she could 
scarcely repress a desire to laugh aloud "when she beheld 
the figure of a man standing at the left of the entrance, 
holding in his hands a little square of board stuck full of 
houtonniers. 

Like a flash she slipped forward and took her place upon 
the other side of Lord Keith; then, just as they reached 
the flower- vender: 

“Oh, %vhat lovely violets!” she exclaimed, in a dis- 
tinctly audible voice, “and how very odd to see them sold 
upon the streets at this season of the year!” 

The effect produced was just what she had aimed at 
reaching. Attracted by her remax-k, the flower-vender 
stepped forward, hopeful of finding a customer; and at the 
same moment Lord Keith and his wife turned to glance at 
the violets, to which her ladyship had dii’ected their atten- 
tion. 

And all in an instant thex*e was a strangely dramatic 
crisis. 


TtJE KING'S DAtIGHTERS. 


161 


With his wares extended, the flower-vender looked up 
into Lady Keith’s face; he stepped back Avith a sharp, 
gasping cry, the board dropped from his hands, and just 
as her ladyship uttered a smothered cry, and crouched 
back against her husband, shivering, terrified, white as 
death : 

“Zillah!” exclaimed the flower-vender, reaching out his 
hands toward her — “Zillah, beloved! thou hast again 
come back to earth I Marco! Marco! see — it is Zillah, the 
pride and glory of our sorrowing tribe!” 

The man was Gypsy Jock! 


CHAPTER XXXVII. 

“the little rift within the lute.” 

Never, if life rounded itself out to the measure of a 
thousand years, would Lady Zillah Keith forget that mo- 
ment of agony, Avhen she lifted her eyes to the face of 
the flower- vender and recognized the features of Gypsy 
Jock. 

It had all happened so quickly, so utterly without hint 
or Avarning, that she had no poAver to speak or to control 
her scattered senses; and but for the timely interference of 
Lord Keith, she might at that moment have fallen into 
the snare which Lady Blanche had so cunningly spread 
for her, and have betrayed the secret she longed so much 
to keep. 

But, quick as a flash, and almost as Jock himself ceased 
speaking. Lord Keith stepped briskly forAvard and repelled 
the gypsy’s advances by an indignant upAvard movement 
of his right arm. 

“Stand where you are, felloAv!” he exclaimed, angrily. 
“What do you mean by this insolence? Are you mad or 
drunk? or have a’ou some dishonest motive for creating a 
disturbance, so that your confederates may plunder the 
croAvd you desire to attract? Come now, sheer off this in- 
stant, you rascal, before I send for a gendarme and give 
you in charge.” 

The angry blood flamed up in Jock’s face like a flash, 
and his eyes, glancing from Zillah’s, darted a Avrathful 
gleam into his lordship’s OAvn. 

“ Who are you, that you think you can make new laAvs 
to suit your OAvn fancy, and put a curb upon a man’s 
tongue at Avill?” he exclaimed, Avrathfully. “ Give me to 
a gendarme, Avill you, my fine cock-sparroAv ? For av hat? 
Because I have taken the liberty to speak to a woman 
whom I have knoAvn long before you ever set eyes upon 
her face?” 

“ You scoundrel 1 I ” 


168 


THE KINHS DAUGHTERS. 


“No— don’t you lift your hand against me, my friend 
—I’m a stronger and a better man than you, if it comes 
to a game of fisticuffs, and I’m not the kind to take a 
blow easily — especially from such as you, Lord Alaric 
Keith!” 

“ So you know me then, you rascal?” 

“Yes, I know you, curse you! and I’ve good cause to 
know you, too, when you come between n\e and the hope 
of my life. I know you and I know her — ask her if I 
don’t, and then see if you can make the gendarmes ar- 
rest a man for no other reason than recognizing an old 
friend!” 

A faint, wavering cry from Zillah, accompanied by a 
heavy pressure upon his arm, checked the indignant 
speech which sprung to Lord Keith’s lips, and turning 
sharply, he glanced at his wife. 

“The man is mad!” she gasped, in a voice that was 
scarcely audible, so full it was of terror, “Don’t you un- 
derstand? It is that miserable picture again! Oh, will it 
never cease to haunt me? Please get me away, Alaric — 
our carriage is there at the curb — please get me away be- 
fore he becomes violent!” 

Having, as ho believed, had one experience with a mad- 
man, regarding the original of “La Fleur de Foret,” this 
charge seemed to Lord Keith a very feasible one, and 
darting Gypsy Jock a look of sudden comprehension, he 
beckoned Lady Blanche to follow, threw his arm about the 
waist of his wife, and without another word pushed his 
way through the crowd and whisked Zillah across the 
pavement to the door of the waiting carriage. 

But Gypsy Jock was not to be thrown off in that way, 
for scarcely had his lordship wrenched open the door of 
the vehicle and assisted Zillah and Lady Blanche to spring 
in ere the Romany Rye rushed after them, as though he 
were in very truth a madman. 

“ I want to speak with that girl— I ii'ill speak with her!” 
he roared angrily, as he dashed through the crowd. “I 
know the game now! It was all a cheat and a sham — her 
disappearance! She went Avith you — went to what I 
warned her would be her ruin, and as for you— you who 
stamped the white rose in the dust, as I knew you would ; 
for you, the fate I told her would be your reward if you 
proved to be her curse!” 

As he finished speaking he reached the outer edge of the 
crowd that was teaming out of the opera house, and with 
the utterance of that final word, leaped like an angered 
tiger upon Lord Keith. 

His lordship, standing with one foot upon the pavement 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 169 

and one on the step of the carriage, whirled suddenly and 
met the advancing foe. 

His right arm shot out like a flash, his clinched hand, 
landing with a dull, crushing sound upon the gypsy’s lips, 
sent the man sprawling backward until he lost his balance 
and fell heavily upon tlie pavement, then grasping the op- 
portunity to spring into the vehicle, his lordship banged 
the door, sung out “Home!” to the driver, and by the 
time Jock regained his feet, the carriage w'as dashing up 
the boulevard and fast disappearing among the dozens of 
other vehicles that were clattering away from the opera 
house, and my Lady Blanche Hay, leaning back among 
the cushions and fighting hard to conceal her chagrin, 
realized that the first step toward her cherished plan of 
vengeance, while not exactly a failure, was still very far 
from being a comple success ! 

She had, however, little opportunity to brood over her 
disappointment; for now that the terrible crisis Avas past, 
and, out of almost certain ruin, hope had again struggled 
into existence, the reaction set in, and Zillah, dropping 
heavily upon her ladyship’s shoulder, sobbed and Avept and 
laughed in \dolent hysteria. 

“ My darling, my darling, pray do not give way to this 
weakness, and don’t — please, don’t act so strangely, dear 
— it almost breaks my heart!” urged Lord Keith, as both 
he and Lady Blanche vainly strove to calm her troubled 
soul, and sooth her beAvildered mind. 

‘‘Oh, this is terrible— terrible, Lady Blanche!” he Avent 
on. ‘‘She does not seem to knOAV me, nor to heed a 
AA'ord I say. Give me your vinaigrette again, please! 
Inez, Inez, my darling! why do you alloAv the miserable 
affair to affect you like this? My Heaven! I Avish we had 
never seen that Avretched picture, and I wish the madman 
Avho painted it Avere at the North Pole, if every lunatic in 
Paris is to be excited by it, and put my darling to such 
misery as this!” 

My lady rolled up her eyes and emitted a long, Ioav 
sigh. 

That Zillah, in her present state of mental suffering, Avas 
deaf and blind to all that passed, she very Avell knew, and 
knoAving, could not resist the opportunity to insert the thin 
edge of the Avedge, and begin constructing the breach be- 
tAveen her tAvo unsuspecting victims. 

‘‘It is strange— it is very strange!” she muttered, as 
though communing Avith herself. ” Of course there can 
be no room for doubt concerning the insanitj" of the artist 
who painted ‘La Fleur de Foret,’ but it is very strange, 
and I cannot make it out!” 


170 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


Lord Keith glanced up sharply, and a ridge gathered be- 
tween his dark brows. 

“Cannot make what out, Lady Blanche?” he said in 
a puzzled voice. “What is it that strikes j'ou very 
strange?” 

“Oh, nothing— nothing!” she answered evasively. “I 
was only thinking, that is all, and I have a bad trick of 
thinking aloud sometimes. I was not aware that you ov- 
erheard me, Lord Keith. But pray don’t let the affair 
trouble you for a minute. It is a mere bagatelle, and 
sti-ange as it appears, really amounts to nothing. It isn’t 
worth speaking of, especially when one recollects that poor 
Monsier Herndo!i is a lunatic, and nobody thinks of ana- 
lyzing a lunatic’s motives, or, perhaps, I should say, fan- 
cies!” 

“Upon my soul, I don’t know what you mean. Lady 
Blanche!” responded Lord Keith, with a slight, unsteady 
laugh. “ Is there anything moi’e to come out of that 
wretched picture? I believe I shall hire some unprinci- 
pled gamin to steal into the salon and ruin the thing if it 
grows any worse than it is already.” 

“ Worse ! Oh, you queer, fanciful male creatures ! How 
blindly you leap at conclusions, to be sure! Who said it 
is any worse, I should like to know?” returned her lady- 
ship, with a smile. “ I was only remarking a certain pe- 
culiarity about it — a peculiarity which that little affair in 
the /oyer of the opera house called to my mind, but I cer- 
tainly did not say that it made matters any worse! W’'hat 
I did say was, that it was rather strange ! But there ! it 
really isn’t worth talking about, so let it pass.” 

“With all my heart, if yoirill only tell me what it is. 
If it doesn’t amount to anything, it certainly can do no 
harm to mention it. Tell me now what was it that struck 
you as being odd about the picture. Lady Blanche? and 
why should that crazy fool at the opera house recall it to 
your mind?” 

“ Oh, dear, dear, what persistent creatures you men 
are!” responded Lady Blanche, with a smile and a shake 
of her pretty, dark head. “ Why, the man recalled it to 
me, of course, simply because it was the most natural 
thing in the world that he should do so, and what I 
thought was strange was simply this: Don’t you recollect 
the figure of the man who is drawing the gypsy maiden 
away from the sight of the wounded artist in ‘ La Fleur 
de Foret’!” 

“Yes; what of it?” 

“Nothing, of course, only, as I say, it did seem strange 
that he should wear the same long buckskin leggings and 
black corduroy clothing, and that, while not exactly a por- 


the KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


171 


trait, the figure should boar a really noticeable resem- 
blance to the crazy fiower-vender who acted so queerly at 
the opera house to-night.” 

Lord Keith started perceptibly, the ridge deepened be- 
tween his brows, he glanced sharply at the pale, tear- 
swollen face of his semi-unconscious wife, and a hectic 
flush swept over his own; swept and vanished and left it 
white as death. 

“I had not remarked the fact before,” he said, in a 
hushed voice. “ Yes, it is rather strange, but, as you say, 
there can be nothing in it.” 

“Oh, certainly not,” responded her ladyship, emphatic- 
ally. “To harbor such a thought would be to doubt Inez, 
and to believe that the flower- vender spoke the truth when 
he claimed a former acquaintance with her; and Avho, 
pray, would be absurd enough to do that? Still, it was 
odd, Avas it not? when one recollects the peculiar story of 
the insane artist regarding the masked gypsy, whose pres- 
ence among them all the members of the tribe were so 
anxious to conceal, and Avho, in the picture, bears such a 
marvelous likeness to our dear girl. If there Avere anoth- 
er face like hers in the Avide world, one might easily ac- 
count for everything upon the plea of mistaken identity; 
although” — opening Avide the dark, andalnsian eyes, and 
glancing up into his face Avith a look of childlike wonder 
and artie.ss simplicity — “although, Avhen one comes to 
thiiik of it, the floAver-vender seemed to make no mistake 
regarding you. Lord Keith, for he certainly addressed yon 
by name.” 

Again his lordship started, and again the flush came and 
Avent over his half-aA^crted face. 

“ Yes,” he said, moistening his dry lips Avith the tip of 
his tongue, and speaking in a slightly unsteady voice — 
“ yes, it is certainly very strange; but there can be noth- 
ing in it beyond the merest chance, of course. As for me, 
it is not the first time, by a dozen or more, that I have 
visited Paris, and as I have never had any cause for con- 
cealing my identity, somebody who knew my name might 
have pointed me out to the fellow.” 

“Oh, yes, indeed — that is very probable,” responded 
her ladyship, sweetly. “There are a thousand Avays in 
Avhich he might have learned Avho and Avhat you are. He 
may, even, haA^e seen you in some other part of Europe — 
these gypsies travel about a great deal, and roam every- 
where, you knoAV.” 

“ You think he Avas a gypsy, then?” 

“ Why, yes, of course ! Don’t ?/oz(? He certainly looked 
like one, at all events; and then, Avhen he addressed Inez, 
don’t you recollect that he used the gypsy mode of expres- 


THE KING^S DAUGHTERS. 


m 


sioii— the pronouns ‘thee’ and ‘thou’ — and even men- 
tioned something about ‘ the pride and glory coming back 
to his sorrowing tribe' f I never thought him anything 
hut a gypsy— did you?” 

‘‘I don’t know. I never stopped to think about the 
matter at all!” responded Lord Keith, in a troubled voice, 
‘‘But what does it signify, anyhow? Let us avoid the 
■\vretched subject altogether, and give our attention to 
Inez. She is growing calmer, I think, and I do hope that 
she will be herself again by the time we reach the hotel.” 

‘‘So do I, poor dear!” returned her ladyship, gently 
stroking the golden head which lay upon her bosom; ” for 
she really- seems to be suffering intensely, and for so slight 
an affair” takes it very- much to heart— much more than is 
necessary, when one recollects that it cannot in any w-ay 
reflect upon her, and being Lord Glandore’s granddaugh- 
ter, could not possibly have any sympathy with such ca^fZe 
as gypsies! The old earl’s enmity to the race is almost 
proverbial, and Inez shares it to no small degree. She has 
so little feeling for the vagabond race, that it seemed odd 
she should take this affair so much to heart!” 

Lord Keith made no reply', and, save that the ridge be- 
tween his brows became deeper, and the pallor of his face 
more pronounced, gave no sign that he even heard my 
lady-’s words, and sinking back in the cushions well pleased 
with the impression she had made, her ladyship eyed him 
from beneath her dark brows, and smiled a smile of quiet 
satisfaction. 

Meanwhile the carriage kept clattering on, and Zillah, 
whose nervous excitement had gradually been subsiding, 
had entirely recovered from her hysterical fit by the time 
it reached the hotel. 

Lord Keith, with his accustomed tenderness, assisted her 
to alight as the vehicle came to a halt at the curb, and. 
supporting her witli his strong arm, led her up stairs, and 
after bidding her lady-ship good- night, conducted her to 
the parlor of their private suit. 

Not until now liad he spoken one word to her regarding 
the experiences of the night; but as the door closed upon 
Lady- Blanche, and Zillah, with a faint, low sob of w-retched- 
ness, sunk heavily into a chair, he came forward, and tak- 
ing her cold, limp hand in his, seated himself upon an 
ottoman at her feet. 

“Dearest,” he said, very tenderly— “ dearest, y-ou are 
taking this affair too much to heart. AVhy- should you let 
the mere raving of a madman effect you like this?” 

“ I don’t know,” she answered, feebly. “ Perhaps is was 
the story- you told me to-day— the story of that insane art- 
ist— and the fear which came of it. Was— was he— /le the 


KING'S daughters. 




painter, Alaric? That man who spoke tome, I mean? 
Was he the artist who painted ‘La Fleur de Foret’? I 
fancied that he might be, and the terrible thought al- 
most frightened me to death.” 

Her words, explaining, in a measure, the cause of her 
undue excitement, drove all other thoughts from Lord 
Keith’s mind, and, glancing up with a smile, he softly 
patted the cold Avhite hand which lay in his. 

“No, dearest, that was not the man,” he said. “I 
wondez’ed why you were so terribly excited, but this, of 
course, explains all. So ou feared that the man who ac- 
costed you was the American, Robert Herndon, eh? No 
wonder you were terrified, my darling!” 

‘‘I did not know but what he would do me some vio- 
lence !” she answered, in a nervous voice. ” But since 3'^oii 
tell me he is not the man, I am terrified all the more. 
Oh. Alaric, why did we ever come to this terrible Paris? 
It is a city of lunatics —a city of terrors — and I shall bo 
glad when we leave it forever. Let us remain hei'e no 
longer, my husband; that wretched picture will haunt 
me if we do, and drive me into madness. Let us go away 
to-morrow, Alaric. I am eager to see grandpa and Glan- 
dore!” 

‘‘‘As the queen wills,’ my darling,” he quoted, with a 

smile. ‘‘ I thought you would be happy here, but now 

Our honeymoon will end a month sooner than we thought, 
Inez, and you were so sorry this morning that it was even 
near its close.” 

‘‘But I want to go home— I must go home!” she an- 
swered, in a strident voice. ‘‘That miserable picture has 
destroj’^ed all my happiness. I shall be afraid to vent- 
ure forth if we remain here longer. Alaric, say that you 
will take mo home in the morning, and I will be satis- 
fied.” 

‘‘ I will take you honae in the morning, dearest,” he re- 
peated, tenderly. ‘‘Your will is my will, Inez, and, since 
you wish it, to-morrow we shall return to Glandore.” 


CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

THE ESCAPE. 

The joy of that marvelous discovery well-nigh made 
Robert Ilerndon shriek aloud in his delight; and, as 
Miss Catheron tottered forward and faintly sunk into his 
outstretched arms, he would not at that instant have 
changed places with the loftiest potentate in all the 
world. 

‘‘ Oh, sir, save me! in pity, save me!” panted Miss Cath- 
eron, clinging to him in trembling terror, and lifting her 


174 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


dilated eyes to his. “ They will kill me in this dreadful 
place— save me, oh, save me, before their torture makes 
me as mad as they declare I am!” 

‘‘Save you!” repeated Robert, with a thrill of happiness 
in his voice. ” Ay, if an army rose to prevent it. I have 
been seeking for you so long, my dear one— so long, that 
now I have found you, no power on earth shall tear you 
from these protecting arms.” 

Miss Catheron’s bright, blue eyes flashed suddenly up into 
his— she had heard his words— and for one instant a dread- 
ful suspicion — a suspicion of his sanity— flashed across her 
tortured brain. 

But no madness looked back at her out of those adoring 
eyes, and no shattered reason Avas manifest in that hand- 
some, manly face. 

‘‘ Oh, sir,” she cried out in a broken, heart- Avrung A^oice 
— ‘‘oh, sir, it must have been Heaven that sent you to save 
me from the horrors of this fearful place. I am not mad, 
as Heaven hears me, I swear to you that I am not mad — 
and yet, for four horrible months. I have been shut up 
here in this madhouse, as though I had not a friend in all 
the Avorld !’ ’ 

‘‘A madhouse!” repeated Heimdon, starting violently, 
and glancing about him. ‘‘ Is that Avhat this place is? 
My Heaven ! and to think I should And you here— in a 
madhouse!” 

‘‘Yes, and the most horrible of madhouses!” she an- 
swered Avith a sob. ‘‘For here brutality rules, here sav- 
ages have full sway, and I, Avithout being mad, am locked 
up Avith lunatics, and. if I raise my A^oice in protest, 
beaten like a dog, and treated to tortures that Avould 
make your blood run cold to hear them. But, oh, do not 
let us Avaste time in talking of my misery now. Only let 
me get free of this horrible place, and I Avill tell you the 
whole miserable story afterAvard. There is a gate there, 
in the Avail, and if Ave could procure the key ” 

‘‘Where is it?” interrupted Robert, excitedly. “Tell 
me Avho guards it, dear— tell me where to find it— and if a 
dozen such rascals as these stand betAveen me and it, I’d 
have it or die in fighting to gain your liberty ! Where is 
it, dearest? tell me— tell me at once!” 

“He has it— that man — Dr. Mortiere— the proprietor of 
this terrible place!” responded Inez, pointing to the figure 
of the first man Robert had knocked down. “ He always 
carries the keys of the institution fastened to his belt, and 
if you can take them from him ” 

“If I can?” interrupted Robert, Avith a laugh, as he 
rushed to the man in question, and, turning over his in- 
animate body, felt for the keys, and, finding them, 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


175 


snapped the string which bound them to his waist. 
“See! How easily I can, dear! Look! I have them al- 
ready. Now show me the gate, and in another minute we 
will be outside the wall!” 

With a short, swift cry of gladness, Inez beckoned him 
to follow her, and, turning, darted to the opposite side 
of the quadrangle, where a heavy, iron-studded gate, set 
close to the angle of the wall, gave egress from the dark 
inclosure. 

“It is here— it is here!” she cried, excitedly, as she 
placed her hand against it, and, darting briskly to her 
side, Robert passed his hand along the heavy, iron-stud- 
ded panels until his fingers touched the keyhole. 

The size of the aperture assured him that the key must 
be a large one, and, guided by this, he selected the biggest 
of the bunch, slipped it into the lock, gave it a turn, and 
in one moment the door stood open. 

Catching Inez by the shoulder, he thrust her out of the 
quadrangle, followed swiftly, and, pausing a moment to 
lock the gate, flung the keys away, and hastily rejoined 
her, as she fled in the direction of the high-road. 

“ Oh, bless you, sir, bless you!” as he darted to her side. 
“You have saved me from the most horrible fate I ever 
dreamed of, and if I can ever hope to reward you ” 

“Hush!” he interrupted, gently. “Can I ask for any 
reward greater than the one that Heaven has already 
given me? I have been seeking you night and day since 
that blessed time when I first beheld your dear face, and 
I thank God that I have found you, after all. I know not 
who you are — nor what you are— save that you cannot be- 
long to the tribe nor yet the i-ace of those with whom I 
first saw you, for every feature of your dear face stamps 
you of a higher birth but I do know : the search of 
years is over, and Heaven has blessed me at last!” 

Inez turned sharply and glanced at him — they were hur- 
rying briskly down the road which led to Vallaine — and a 
puzzled look gathered upon her pale, sweet face. 

“ I do not understand you,” she said. “ Have we, then, 
met before? Indeed, I cannot recollect it. sir.” 

“Why should you?” he answered. “ To you, perhaps, 
it was but an episode, but to me. a destiny. But, there, 
let us talk no more at present. Until you are out of the 
reach of the rascals who run that fearful place from which 
you have just escaped, it is better that Ave should give our 
entire attention to gain some place where we can find rest 
and shelter for the night. To-morrow I will take you 
back Avith me to Paris where my mother lives, and if 
you like, you can tell me your story then. At pres- 
ent Ave have a long walk before us, and it is better that Ave 


176 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


should endeavoi’ to get as far fi*om the as5’lum as fate will 
allow, before those rascals recover consciousness to give 
piu'suit. ’ ’ 

Thus admonished, Inez ceased talking, and supported 
by his strong arm, ran with him in the direction of Val- 
laine. 

A mile or so down the road they were fortunate enough 
to come upon a lonely farmhouse at the foot of the hill, 
and hazarding a rebuff, Robert walked up to the door, and 
aroused the inmates. 

“We have been lost in the forest of Fontainbleu, my 
good man, and are anxious to reach Vallaine,” he ex- 
plained, as a head was thrust from one of the upper win- 
dows, and a sleepy, masculine voice inquired the cause of 
the disturbance. “If you can furnish us with a vehicle 
and drive us to the village, I will pay you any price you 
may ask for the service.” 

The man needed no further urging, and sniffing a good, 
fat fee in return for a couple of hours’ lost sleep, hastily 
dressed himself, prepared the vehicle, and in less than 
twenty minutes the journey to Vallaine was begun. 

Arriving at the village, Robert paid and thanked the 
man for his services, and ascertaining from him that the 
Paris train was due at Vallaine station within an hour, 
Avisely concluded that it were better to put as much ground 
as possible between Inez and the keepers of the inaison cle 
sante Avhile he had the opportunity, and instead of apply- 
ing for lodgings at the village inn, led his half-exhausted 
companion to the little railway station and ushered her 
into the waiting-room. 

“Rest here,” he said gently, as he escorted her to a 
seat. “It Avill not be many minutes before the train 
comes along, nor yet many hours before you are safely 
housed and in the charge of my dear old mother.” 

“Oh, sir, you are very good to me!” exclaimed Inez, 
lifting her beautiful eyes to his (and finding lime, even 
then, to remai-k how handsome he was). “How shall I 
ever thank you— how prove to you my gratitude for all 
that you have done?” 

“ I need no thanks,” he answered, with a careless smile. 
“ I would have done as much for the veriest stranger, but 
to do it for you is indeed a blessing, and I ask no greater 
boon. Ah, bow my dear mother will stare when she sees 
you and knows that the picture I painted was not born of 
fancy, after all. I am an artist, you know — or, no, vou 
don't know, since you have forgotten that night in Wales 
—so, if you Avill permit me, I will introduce myself. I am 
an American by birth, and my name is Robert Herndon.” 

“And mine is Inez Catheron,” responded she, gracious- 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS 


177 


ly. “ I am the granddaughtei’ of Lord Glaiidore, of 
Glandore Court, from whence I was abducted last sum- 
mer, Mr. Herndon, and conveyed to the place from which 
3 "OU have just rescued me!” 


CHAPTER XXXIX. 

CROSS PURPOSES. 

Robert uttered a cry of amazement, and recoiling a 
step, stared at her with blank, bewildered eyes. 

“Inez Catheron!” he exclaimed, suddenly; “Inez 
Catheron, the Earl of Glandore’s grandchild? Do you 
mean— can you mean to claim that you are she?” 

“Not only claim, but prove the truth of my words, 
Mr. Herndon,” returned Inez, earnestly. “I have been 
the victim of one of the wickedest and most mysterious 
schemes imaginable. Only think, sir, I was abducted 
from my own home, almost in sight of a hundred peo- 
ple who knew and would gladly have aided me — abducted 
by men whose faces I never saw before, and whose very 
names I do not know even yet, and the cause of whose 
enmity I cannot fathom, save that one of them was a 
gypsy, and my grandfather’s abhorrence for creatures of 
that class has passed into a provei’b. It happened last 
June, Mr. Herndon— happened upon the night we gave 
the private theatidcals at Glainlore Court — and within six 
Aveeks of the time Avhen I Avas to haA’e been married 1” 

“Married!” repeated Robert, groAving A’erA' pale. “My 
Heaven! marided to whom?” 

“To Lord Alaric Keith,” she ansAvered — “to Lord 
Alaric Keith, of Lancedene, Mr. Herndon!” 

“Lord Alaric Keith !” gasped Robert, his mind travel- 
ing back to that memorable interview in the little,parlor 
of No. 27 Rue des Anges, and the words Lord Keith had 
uttered then, relative to his newly married Avife. “ My 
dear girl, your memory must be playing you some cruel 
trick. Why, Lord Keith is at present in Paris, and ” 

“In Paris!” cut in Inez, excitedly. “Alaric in Paris? 
Oh, Mr. Herndon, are you sui*e of what you say?” 

“So sure that I saAV and spoke to him two days ago. 
He did me the honor of calling upon me, and when 1 spoke 
to him of you ” 

Miss Catheron clasped her hands Avith an excited cry, 
and a fitful Avave of color came and Avent across her lovely, 
eager face. 

“ He Avas searching for me, then?” she exclaimed, eag- 
erly. “Oh, hoAV he must have suffered since that terrible 
night, and Avhat a dreadful bloAv it must have been to 
grandpapa and Aunt Alicia ! What did Alaric say to you, 


178 


THE KINHS DAUGHTERS. 


Mr. Herndon? "VVas he very much excited? Had ho found 
some clew to my whereabouts? and was that how you came 
to be at the madhouse to-night?” 

“No,” returned Robert, gravely. “My presence there 
was due alone to accident; and Lord Keith’s mission, when 
he honored me with a call, was to purchase a picture for— 
his wife.” 

“ His wife!” almost shrieked Inez, leaping to her feet 
as though pro])elled by electrical force, and staring at Rob- 
ert with a face as white as death. “ Alaric Keith’s wife, 
did you say? He has married, then? — married so soon 

after my disappearance, and I Who is she?— who is 

his wife"? Tell me— tell me, I implore?” 

“ I have not seen her since their marriage!” returned 
Robert, in a hushed voice; “ but Lord Keith himself volun- 
teered the statement that she was formerly Miss Inez 
Catheron, Lord Glandore’s grandchild, and that ” 

He never finished the sentence. With a ci*y of mingled 
terror and surprise. Miss Catheron fell away from him and 
dropped back into a seat in a sort of collapse. 

“Married ?ne— married me!" she gasped, in a palpitat- 
ing voice. “ Oh, sir, it is impossible! I am married to no 
one, Mr. Herndon! How could I be, when I have been 
locked up in a madhouse ever since last June? Ob, sir, 
this is some cruel hoax, or else — or else ” 

Her voice died away in a faintly sibilant whisper, as a 
thought almost too terrible to mention took shape in her 
agonized bi'ain, and, cowering away from him, she shiv- 
ered back into her seat, and clasped" her hands so tightly 
that the blood receded from her finger-nails and left them 
white as pearls. 

There was a momentary hush, and then: 

“ Will you take me to Lord Keith when we reach Paris, 
Mr. Herndon?” she asked, fighting hard to steady her 
voice and appear calm. “Please promise me that you 
will do that, for I cannot, oh! I cannot believe it possible 
that he is married until I hear it from his own lips ! You 
will take me to Lord Keith, oh! say that you will, Mr. 
Hei-ndon, and I will be your debtor for life!” 

“I will take you to him, yes!” he answered. “I do 
not know where he is stopping, but I can easily find out, 
as soon as we reach Paris. But, hark! here comes our 
train at last. Miss— Miss Inez; and if the keepers of the 
madhouse have any idea of overtaking us, they had bet- 
ter abandon it, for we shall soon be beyond their reach!” 

Inez ventured no reply. Crouching back in her seat, a 
prey to the deadliest fear, she sat and watched with her 
dilated eyes until the train steamed up to the station, and, 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 179 

with a reverent tenderness, he assisted her to rise and 
enter it. 

Two minutes later they were steaming up the tracks in 
the direction of the gay French capital, and, shut in with 
her rescuer in the compartment which they alone occu- 
pied, Miss Catheron again sunk into a seat and again 
Avatched him. 

“How little you are changed,” he said, presently, “and 
how Avell I carried the memory of y our face, after all ! 
You shall see the picture I have painted of you, and tell 
me if it is not a perfect likeness. I wish you had remem- 
bei'ed me. Miss Inez. Can you recall nothing of that night 
which made such a lasting impression upon my mind?” 

“ Which night?” she queried, nervously. “I — I do not 
understand to what you allude, Mr. Herndon.” 

“ The night when I first saw you,” he answered — “that 
blessed night at Cam Euth in Wales.” 

“In Wales !” she repeated, faintly. “ I — I think I never 
was in Wales, Mr. Herndon.” 

He glanced at her half smilingly, half sadly, and stifled 
a sigh. 

“ Perhaps my memory is not so good, after all,” he said, 
“and perhaps it wasn’t in Wales. But what does it signi- 
fy Avhether it Avas in one place or the other? You shall 
tell me Avhen j^ou are rested why j’our companions refused 
to acknoAvledge your existence, and why you Avore a mask 
that night. It Avere a thousand pities to cover such a face. 
You are so little like other gypsies that ” 

“ Gypsies !” The Avord dropped from her lips Avith such 
a strange tone of mingled surprise and horror that Eobert 
glanced at her in alarm. “ I am not a gypsy, Mr. Hern- 
don, and I never was among gypsies in all my life. Oh, 
sir, oh, Mr. Herndon. I beg, I entreat of you to believe 
what I say is true! I am Inez Catheron, Lord Glandore’s 
grandchild, and not a vagabond of the Avoods and fields!” 

“ I do believe you. Miss Inez,” soothed Eobert, tenderly. 
“ But we will not talk of it any more since it distresses 
you like this. Let me roll my coat into a pilloAV for you 
so that you may sleep aAvhile and be rested Avhen Ave reach 
Paris. Nay, I insist. You are Avorn and spent Avith the 
horrors of this dreadful night, and you must let me do all 
I can to make you comfortable now and— hereafter.” 

He smiled as he Avatched her rest her head upon the im- 
promptu pillow; then turning aAvay Avith a smothered 
sigh, he rested his folded arms upon the ledge of the car 
windoAv and stared gloomily out into the October dark- 
ness. 

“Pound at last!” he sadly mused— “ found, after two 
years’ searching, Avithin the Avails of a Fi-ench madhouse. 


Iso 


THE KING^S DAUGHTERS. 


and found— like this! Oh, fate! fate! how cruel that the 
light of reason should be removed from such a lovely- 

shrine! Mad! mad! and I God help me— God pity 

me! mad or sane I love her now as I loved her then, and 
as I shall love her always to the day I die!” 


CHAPTER XL. 

SWEET pity! whither WILT THOU LEAD?” 

In the gray light of the October morning the train 
steamed into the depot at Paris, and Inez, who, in spite of 
her doubts regarding the sanity of her companion, had 
succumbed to the demands of exhausted nature and fallen 
asleep, was aroused from her slumbers by Robert gently 
touching her shoulder and bidding her arise. 

“We are at our journey’s end, Miss Inez,” he said, 
with a kindly smile of reassurance, as she sprung to her 
feet with a feeble exclamation of terror, and retreated as 
far from him as the limited space of the compartment 
would allow. “Pray do not alarm jmurself; no harm 
will come to you while I am here, my poor girl. Did I 
awaken you too roughly? Foi'give me for it; I only 
wished to tell you that we had reached Paris at last, and 
the guard will be here presently to unlock the compart- 
ment, and allow us to proceed on our way to join my 
mother.” 

“You are very kind, Mr. Herndon,” stammered Inez, 
confused at finding that, far from being compelled to 
battle with a madman during one of his violent periods, 
her companion seemed even quieter and more rational 
than before. ‘‘ I— I think I must have been dreaming at 
the time you touched me. and I was so startled I scarcely 
knew what I did. Have I been sleeping very long?” 

“ Almost the entire time since we left Vallaine,” he an- 
swered, with a smile. “I hope you feel rested. I tried 
to make ymu as comfortable as I could, with the limited 
means at my command. But now, as the guard is com- 
ing, I think it will be advisable for me to make myself a 
little more presentable.’’ 

“Oh!’’ exclaimed Inez, starting and blushing, as she 
suddenly became aware that his coat and waistcoat had 
both been removed to further her comfort, “ oh, you have 
been traveling like that all night, when the air is so raw 
and cold at this season of the year ! It is good of you — 
ver}" good of j^ou to do so much to make me warm and 
comfortable, Mr. Herndon; but you should not have ex- 
posed yourself to the peril of cold and illness. I should 
have done well enough without forcing you to make such 
a sacrifice as this.” 


THE KINHS DAUGHTERS. 


181 


“You are worrying yourself about nothing!” he 
answered, with a careless, good-humored laugh. “What 
is a breath of air to a great healthy fellow like me? Why, 
I never knew an hour’s real sickness in my life; and, far 
from suffering any inconvenience from the exposure, as 
you ai*e pleased to term it, I assure you it was quite a 
relief to be rid of some of my extra clothing.” 

Nevertheless, he shivered a trifle as he said it — for the 
early morning air was sharp and frosty— and he seemed 
nowise reluctant to replace the “ burden ” of which he 
had complained. 

Miss Catheron, however, had no opportunity to mention 
this, even though she noticed it, for at that moment the 
guard unlocked the compartment, and Robert, catching 
her by the arm, hurried her out into the dim, misty light 
of the young morning, led the Avay to a spot where some 
half dozen fiacres were stationed about the public square, 
just opposite and but a few yards removed from the 
facade of the magnificent depot, and approaching the 
nearest, opened the door and assisted Inez to enter before 
even the enterprising driver was really aware that he had 
secured a customer. 

“To No. 27 Rue des Anges, my man,” he called out as 
he stepped in after his companion and banged the door 
behind him. “Drive fast and you shall have no I’eason to 
complain of yonv poar-boire!" 

The cabman touched his cap, remounted his seat, and 
gathering up the reins drove briskly away in the direction 
indicated. 

Half an hour later saw the joiumey at its end, and hav- 
ing assisted Inez to alight, Robert paid the driver, gave 
him a generous pour-hoire and, after dismissing him, led 
Inez through the gateway and across the trim little court- 
yard to the door of his humble but neat abode. 

Early as the hour was. and it was not yet six o’clock, 
Mrs. Serndon was already “up and doing,” as the raised 
curtains and open shutters of the villa testified, and 
scorning all ceremony in a truly American fashion, Robert 
fished out his latch-key, opened the door, and as he 
escorted his companion across the threshold and into the 
humble little parlor, sung out cheerily : • 

“ Hello, there ! Mother! where are you? It is I — Robert, 
and I have brought you a visitor.” 

Through the open doorway Avhich led to the kitchen, 
and Avhere he knew by the aroma of coffee and beef-steak 
his mother was engaged in the process of preparing her 
solitary breakfast, a faint, joyous cry floated out to him, 
followed instantly by the rustle of skirts and the patter of 


18^ 


THE KTNGE daughters. 


hasty footsteps, and almost in a twinkling she rushed out 
into the hallway and caught him in her arms. 

“Robert, my dear, dear boy!” she exclaimed, as she 
embraced him. “Oh, this is indeed a glad surprise. 
Why, I did not dream of seeing you before nightfall at 
the very earliest. What fortunate chance has sent you 
back to me as soon as this?” 

“ Come and see,” he laughed, as he kissed her affection- 
ately. “You have so long believed me a dreamer, mother 
darling, and now I am going to prove to you that I am no 
more fanciful than your dear, practical old self. Didn’t 
you hear me say that 1 had brought you a visitor? Come 
and see who it is.” 

As he spoke he wound his arm around her waist, and 
only granting her sufficient time to remove her kitchen 
apron, and give her hair a preparatory brush with the palms 
of her shapely old hands, led her gently to the door of the 
parlor, and ushered her into Miss Catheron’s presence. 

“My mother. Miss Inez,” he said, as he approached the 
chair where protegee was seated, with her back turned 
to the light, and her sweet face drooping. “ Mother, dear- 
est, I am sure you will gladly welcome this young lady to 
our home. I was fortunate enough to rescue her fi-om the 
hands of a brute who keeps a private madhouse in the 
Pampeau Road, near the forest of Fontainbleu. Tell her 
that — that you are glad to receive her for her own sake as 
well as for mine.” 

“ Can she doubt it, since you have brought her to me?” 
exclaimed Mrs. Herndon, hurrying forward with both 
hands extended. “ Welcome, my child — welcome a thou- 
sand times. Indeed, I am only too happy to offer you the 
shelter and protection which ” 

She stopped abruptly— stopped with a sudden, startled 
cry — and stood quite still, staring in breathless surprise at 
the figure before her ; for, touched by that tender, motherly 
greeting. Miss Catheron had risen with some words of 
grateful acknowledgment for the welcome extended her, 
the light from the window slanted across her beautiful, 
sorrowful face ; her lovely, tear- dimmed eyes Avere raised to 
Mrs. Herndon’s OAvn, and, seeing her there and thus, the 
Avidow knew at last Avhat her son had meant Avhen he 
spoke of the “ fancy ” Avhich had grieved her so much. 

“Robert!” she exclaimed in a startled voice, “Robert, 
you ha\"e found her at last ! It is the original of ‘ La 
Fleur de Foret,’ and after all it Avas not a dream.” 

“Was it not?” he ansAvered, Avith a slight laugh. 
“ Miss Inez seems to think it was, mother, and surely — 
this with a significant glance at Mrs. Herndon— “ surely 
she should knoAV. Wait until you have heard her story. 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


183 


and perhaps you will think me a greater dreamer than 
ever. She disclaims all connection with any g3'psy tribe, 
and far from being one of that race, assures me that she 
is the granddaughter of Lord Glandore, an English peer, 
and that she is the victim of some unknown enemy, who 
caused her to be incarcerated in the private madhouse 
from which I last night rescued her!” 

“A madhouse!” gasped Mrs. Herndon, growing very 
pale, and at the same time darting her son a glance which 
told him that she understood what he wished to imply by 
the carefully constructed speech; then, as her gaze 
returned to Inez and her eyes looked into every detail of 
that beautiful, sorrowful picture she made, standing there 
so utterly alone, so utterly helpless: 

“Mj* child— my deal’, dear child, is this really true?” 
she added, fluttering forward and taking her in her arms. 
“Your misfortune makes jmu doubly welcome, even 
though you were as poor as poverty itself!” 

“But I am not poor, dear Mrs. Herndon!” exclaimed 
Inez, bursting into tears and dropping her head upon the 
widow’s shoulder. “I assure you that I have spoken the 
truth, as investigation will soon prove. I am Inez 
Catheron, one of the richest heiresses of England, Mrs. 
Herndon. Although your son seemed to have mistaken 
me for some one else, i am Inez Catheron, granddaughter 
of the Earl of Glandore, and if you will only let me tell 
you my story, I think I can convince you that I tell 
the truth !” 

Mrs Herndon signified her willingness to listen, and 
Inez, taking up the story of her j’oung life, told it — as we 
have lived it with her, from the hour she became betrothed 
to Alaric Keith to that darker and more dreadful one 
when Robert rescued her from the madhouse on the Parn- 
peau Road. 

“There! there! there! ^mu shall not speak any more of 
the wretched experience!” soothed Mrs. Herndon, when, 
upon mentioning what Robert had told her relative to 
Lord Keith’s presence in Paris with his wife, poor Inez 
broke down and burst into tears. “Come, now, let me 
lead you up stairs where you can make 3'our toilet while 
I am preparing breakfast, and after that Robert and I will 
go with you to the hotel where Lord Keith is stopping, 
and everything will soon be right. Robert,”— laughingly 
— “ please consider that you are conducting bachelor’s 
hall this morning and that you expect visitors to break- 
fast. I shall be busy assisting Miss Catheron for the next 
half hour.” 

“All right, mother,” he responded gayly. “I’ll have 
everything ready by the time you come down, and there’ll 


184 


THE KINHS DAUGHTERS. 


be nothing left for you to do but to clap the steak on the 
gridiron and get it ready for the table. Don’t stop to give 
me any directions. I know where the dishes are; and if 
I can’t cook, I can at least make everything ready for tho 
chef's practical hand. Run along, mother mine, and I 
promise you that the table shall be set as good as though 
you had 'done it yourself.” 

Then stalking out of the parlor into the dining-room, ho 
proceeded to fill this promise to the best of his ability, and 
really did so well that when, some twenty minutes later 
Inez came down arrayed in the prettiest of his mother's 
wrappers, with her fair hair brushed and becomingly 
arranged, and following Mrs. Herndon’s lead, discovered 
him in the act of garnishing the table with some bunches 
of chrysanthemums Avhich he had gathered from the 
garden, she could not refrain from laughingly compli- 
menting him upon his skill, 

“Why, bless you, that’s nothing,” he asserted, with a 
slight an- of masculine authority. “ I never did the thing 
before; but a man’s own wit would tell him just what to 
do without experience when he attempts such a simple 
thing as setting a table!” 

“So it seems, ni}^ dear!” retorted Mrs. Herndon, burst- 
ing into a laugh. “You have done excellently. Robert, 
most excellently, and now, if jmu wouldn’t mind putting 
on a table-cloth instead of my ironing-sheet, and recol- 
lecting that we don’t need soup-plates for breakfast. I’ll 
go in and broil the beefsteak while you make the neces- 
sary alterations.” 

“Let me assist you, Mr. Herndon.” smiled Inez, after 
the laughter had subsided, and Robert, looking red and 
rather sheepish, was staring at the soup-plates and the 
ironing-sheet, and pulling out the ends of his big mus- 
tache in reflective silence. “ We will soon put matters 
to rights if you will only submit to a little feminine guid- 
ance. I am quite willing to believe that you never did 
set a table before; but in case of future necessity let me 
give you a few hints now.” 

“ Thanks. I dai’e say I do need ’em, after all,” returned 
Robert, with a good-humored laugh. 

Then, following her directions, ’ne assisted in making the 
necessary alterations without delay. 

“I Avant to beg your pardon for having, perhaps, been 
very rude, Mr. Herndon !” exclaimed Inez, looking up, and 
then, with a confused blush, letting her eyes fall as they 
met his. “ Your mother has been telling me of your 
Welsh experience — in the gypsy camp, I mean — and I 
know now how you came to make that mistake regarding 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 183 

my identity! Will you forgive me for cherishing some 
vei*y unjust thoughts in regard to you?” 

” I will forgive you anything, Miss Inez!” he answered 
bluntly. “Whatever is in my power to grant you, is 
yours for the asking. If you have heard the story, you 
must know what came to me that night in Wales— came, 
never to leave me so long as life lasts — and the woman who 
bears that face could ask nothing at my hands that I would 
not gladly give.” 

Miss Catheron’s eyes fell as they read but too plainly the 
stoiy that was written in his, and a thrill of pity tingled 
through her heart. 

“I should like to see the picture you have painted, Mr. 
Herndon,” she said, with a confused blush. “ It must be 
a superb work to create such a furor in blase Paris, as your 
mother tells me it has created, and I should like to see it 
very much indeed; may I?” 

“ I have already told you that you have but to express 
the wish, and if it is mine to give it should be fulfilled,” 
he answered, ardently. “ The picture shall be brought 
here to-day. I have no longer any I’eason for exhibiting 
it.” 

Inez turned a-way with a soft, regretful sigh, and made 
a feint of adjusting the bouquets on the table. 

“ Poor fellow !” she thought, as she stole a glance at his 
reflection in the mirror over the mantel. “It is too bad 
that I should spoil his life like this. It is a thou.sand 
pities that he should be insane upon that one subject, 
when in all else he seems such a king among men. How 
noble he is — how ' brave— how manly— and, oh, how very 
handsome — much handsomer, even, than Alaric; and 

yet Oh, I pity him, I pity him from the bottom of 

my heart!” 

The appearance of Mrs. Herndon at this juncture, bear- 
ing in her hands a large tray loaded with steaming viands, 
put a period to her silent musing, as well as to a contin- 
uance of the subject nearest to Robert’s heart; and in a 
few moments later breakfast became a reality, where it 
had before been but a name. 


CHAPTER XLI. 

“CRASH DOWN, OH, DARK, DESTROYING BOLT!” 

It was fully half-past seven o’clock before the happy, 
homelike meal came to an end, and Inez, whose heart had 
gone out at first to the deal*, motherly, little old lady who 
had received her so warmly, felt herself drawn closer to 
her with every movement; and between this fondness for 
the mother, and this pity for the son, there grew up in 


186 


THE KING'S daughters. 


her heart a regret for the time when she must leave them 
and return to the home from which she had been so mys- 
teriously removed. 

“ And now, my dears, as there really isn’t the slightest 
excuse for sitting here any longer, since we have eaten 
everything on the table, and Robert has succeeded in 
completely draining tlie coffee-pot, I think we may as 
well come to the conclusion that bi'eakfast is over at last,” 
smiled Mrs. Herndon, as she pushed back her chair and 
arose. ” I know that you both must be as tilled as can be 
after last night’s affair, so if Robert will run up-stairs to 
his own room, and you will take possession of mine. Miss 
Inez, I really think it will benefit both of you to steal 
forty winks while I attend to my household duties.” 

‘‘A capital idea, mother mine,” responded Robert, giv- 
ing her an affectionate squeeze. “Don’t you think so. 
Miss Inez? You are bearing up bravely, but all the same 
I am sure that you must feel the need of a little rest after 
so much excitement.” 

“You forget that I slept all the way from Vallaine to 
Paris, Mr. Heimdon,” returned Inez smiling, and fighting 
hard to keep back the blush, which somehow would drift 
over her face whenever her eyes encountered his and read 
there the story he could no more have concealed than he 
could have bidden his heart to cease beating at his will. 
“It is you who need rest, while I ” 

Her eyes fell again, and the color stained her face a 
darker, richer crimson than before. 

“ Pray do not think that I am in any haste to leave such 
true friends as you and your mother have proved to me.’’ 
she stammei’ed confusedly. “Indecid, I shall never again 
be entirely happy if our friendship must end here and I do 
not see you again after we say good-bye in Paris. But — 
but you promised that we should visit the hotel where Lord 
Keith is stopping, Mr. Herndon, and if for no other reason 
than that I wish to put grandpapa out of his anxiety as 
soon as possible ” 

“You are quite right,” interposed Robert in a hushed 
voice — a voice out of which all the snap and vitality 
seemed to have suddenly disappeared. “ Had we not bet- 
ter prepare to pay his lordship a visit at once, mother, 
dear?” 

“ Rather say, ‘ had we not better wait until his lordship 
is out of bed,’ ” returned Mrs. Herndon, laughingly. “ Do 
have a little charity. Give his lordship a chance to finish 
out his morning nap, and please— pZease do give me an 
opportunity to wash the breakfast dishes and do my 
housework before you ask me to go out. Come, now, let 
me lead you up-stairs to my room, my dear, and if you 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


187 


don’t feel like sleeping, at least lie down and rest until it 
is time for us to go.” 

To this plan Inez offered no resistance, and gently wind- 
ing one arm about her waist, Mrs. Herndon led her up- 
stairs to her own neat little bed chamber. 

It was some five or six minutes later when the widow 
came back to the dining-room and found Robert standing 
just where she had left him, and silently staring at the 
empty chair where Inez had sat at breakfast. 

“Oh, mother, I thought she had forgotten,” he said, 
gloomily, as the old lady approached him and laid her 
hand upon his arm. “She seemed so bright and happy 
that I thought the fancy had faded from her mind and 
would not again return.” 

“ My poor boy! my poor boy! I am so sorry for you!” 
soothed Mrs. Herndon, gently. “I am afraid that that 
fancy will never leave her. She seems so sane upon all 
other points that I am afraid she is a mono- 
maniac upon that subject; one cannot call her a lunatic, 
even though you did save her from a madhouse; and 
she talks so rationally even upon that that I am half 
tempted to believe that she really is .sane.” 

“Sane, when she claims to be Lord Keith’s betrothed, 
and he here with a wife?— here upon his wedding-tour!” 

“ He may have been false, Robert — false or fickle. 
The fact that he has married does not prove her insane.” 

“But his wife is the woman she claims to be, mother!” 
protested Robert. “ He was here the very day I left for 
Fontainebleu— here to see me in I'eference to purchasing 
‘ La Fleur de Foret ’—and I had it from his own lips that 
he had married Miss Inez Catheron, the grandchild of 
Lord Glandore!” 

“Robert!” 

“It is true, mother— true! Besides, I saw the woman 
who is now his ■wife — saw her in Wales before Lord 
Keith married her — and she is as utterly unlike my poor 
darling as it is possible to conceive. Oh, mother, mother, 
if I cannot drive this fancy from her brain, what will life 
be like to me, Avhen it is all bound up in her ?” 

“My poor boy— my poor, poor, Robert!” murmured 
Mrs. Herndon tearfully. “ For your sake, dear, I hope 
and pray that you may break the spell of her singular 
hallucination. She is sleeping now ; under the pretext of 
giving her a strengthening draught, I administered a few 
drops of chloral, and that, added to her exhausted condi- 
tion, will keep her asleep for some hours. When she 
awakes, if the spell of her delusion be not too deeply cast, 
she may have forgotten the shadow which dims tho 
young morning of my sou’s love,” 


188 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


“I hope so— I pray so with all my heart and soul!” re- 
sponded Robert in a voice husky with emotion ; but how 
vain were both the hope and prayer the noontide hour 
told him. 

With the chiming of twelve o'clock, Miss Catheron’s 
slumbers came to an end, and awaking to find Mrs. Hern- 
don sitting beside her, her first words were: 

‘ ‘ See, it is time for us to call upon Lord Keith now, dear 
Mrs. Herndon. Pray ask your son if we may not go at 
once.” 

With a sigh of vain regret, Margaret Herndon arose 
and bore the message to her son. 

‘‘forgetfulness will not overcome the fancy, you see, 
mother,” he said, with a dreary smile, ‘‘and our only 
hope is to shatter it by the shock of facing him. Do as 
she wishes, and let us call upon Lord Keith at once. 
Yet stop I Pray, impress one thing iipon her mind. 
Since she does not wish to bo thought the original of 
‘ La Fleur do Foret,’ it will be better for her to visit the 
hotel closely veiled, otherwise she will be subjected to 
the rude staring of people we may encounter! You can 
lend her a veil, to ppare her this annoyance, I am sure ; 
and while she is preparing herself for the journey, I 
will step out to secure a conveyance to take us to the 
hotel.” 

Then, taking up his hat, he strode out of the house, and 
went in quest of a fiacre. 

It took him in all some twenty minutes to find one and 
drive back to the house, but scarcely had the vehicle 
paused before the villa ere the house door opened and 
closed softly, and Mrs. Herndon, accompanied by Inez — 
arraj^ed in the widow’s best gown, and wearing, in addi- 
tion, a bonnet and a thick, black veil— came clown the 
steps, crossed the small courtyard, and joined him at the 
curb. 

Without a word Robert alighted and assisted the two 
ladies to enter ; then, bidding the driver to conduct them 
to the Hotel de Paris — which at that period was at the 
zenith of its glory — he stepped in after them, and the 
fiacre, swinging out into the roadway, clattered over the 
pavement and headed straight for the Boulevard des 
Capucines. 

Scarcely a word was spoken during entire journey — 
for all three were busy with their own thoughts — and it 
was a positive relief when the fiacre halted at last befoi-e 
the white marble facade of the great hotel. 

A trifle paler, but otherwise as calm as usual, Robert 
stepped out and assisted tlie two ladies to aliglit; then 
escorting them to the immense rectangular apartment, 


THE KINHS DAUGHTERS. 


189 


■which ran parallel with the office proper, he accosted a 
garcon and bade him ascertain at once if Lord Keith was 
enrolled among the guests of the hotel. 

A minute or so later, the heavy curtains which shrouded 
the doorway fb the office were thrust aside, and not the 
garcon, but one of the upper clerks, entered the sumptuous 
Avaiting-room. 

“A thousand pardons, but monsieur makes inquiry rel- 
ative to Lord Keith, the garcon tells me,” he said politely 
as he advanced toward Robert. 

“Yes, monsieur,” answered the artist, rising from his 
seat, “but the inquiry need occasion no alarm, since it is 
merely a friendly interest which impels me to make it. 
Lord Keith neglected to leave me his address, monsieur — 
I am Robert Herndon, the American artist, and I merely 
wished to know if he was registered here?” 

“He registered here, yes. Monsieur Herndon,” re- 
sponded the man with the utmost politeness. “ But he is 
no longer among our guests. For some reason his lord- 
ship’s party left this morning at daylight to catch the 
packet for Dover!” 

A faint, startled cry broke from Inez’s lips, and rising 
suddenly she clung to Robert’s arm. 

“Left for Dover?” she repeated in a strident voice. 
“ Oh, monsieur, do j^ou mean that he has returned to 
England? that he is not coming back here?” 

“No, madame!” returned the clerk, “he is not coming 
back, for his effects were removed at the same time and 
notice sent to the office that he surrendered his apart- 
ments. It was very sudden, this resolution to return to 
England; in fact, his apartments had been engaged for 
the entire month of October, but it was due, I believe, to 
some Avhim of Lady Keith’s, and ” 

“ Keith !” gasped Inez, recoiling a step, and put- 
ting her hand to her heart as though some one had stabbed 
her. “Lady Keith, did you say? My Heaven, Avhat 
jugglery is this? Who is Lady Keith? His lordship has 
no mother, monsieur, and ” 

“Lad}’- Keith is his lordship’s wife, madame!” inter- 
rupted the clerk, “ She and her friend Lady Blanche Hay 
were his conipagnons du voyage this morning!” 

There Avas no outcry — the shock Avas too great to admit 
of any — and dropping back into her seat speechless and 
nerveless. Miss Catheron let her hands fall limply at her 
sides, and sat there like a veiled image, so deathly still 
she was. 


190 


THE KIN&S DAUGHTERS. 


CHAPTER XLII. 

“ ADRIFT AS A LEAF IN THE STORM.” 

For ten seconds there was utter silence in the room— 
the silence of a breathless anxiety upon the part of Robert 
and his mother— of undisguised wonder upon the part of 
the clerk, and of doubt, despair and wordless terror for 
the tortured woman upon whose head this crushing blow 
had fallen; then: 

“Married!” she uttered in a faint, tremulous whisper. 
“ Alaric jnan’i’ed, and I— I ” 

Something seemed to catch her throat, and choke 
away her voice; her hands moved fx-eely one through 
the other, then shut with a sharp, spasmodic clutch, and 
after it: 

“I will not believe!” she cried out in a dull, desolate 
voice. “The thing is impossible, and I will not believe 
it! There is some mistake — some cruel blunder — some 
terrible confusion of identity. The man who was here is 
an impostor ! He is not Lord Keith— he cannot possibly 
be Lord Keith! There has been a mistake, I tell you — a 
di’eadful mistake, and I— — Can I see the register, mon- 
sieur? Can I see the writing of the man who registered 
the names of Lord and Lady Keith at this hotel!” 

“Certainly, madame, I will fetch the book here,” vol- 
unteered the clerk, who saw at a glance that there was 
something more in this than the mere friendly interest 
to which Robert had alluded, and who was therefore 
anxious to keep the affair from reaching the ears of the 
guests who were clustered about the office. “If madame 
will only remain calm for one moment, I will show her 
the book, and moreover, give her positive evidence that 
Lord Keith is no longer a guest at this hotel.” 

With this he hurried out of the room— so great was his 
desire to prevent a scene and get the party out of the 
hotel as expeditiously as possible— and came back a few 
moments later bearing a ponderous volume in his arms; 
then depositing it upon a table, he began flirting over the 
leaves with eager haste. 

“Look, madame, there is the signature!” he exclaimed, 
nervously, as he found the entry he sought and placed 
his finger upon it, “and, pardieii! if it be the one 
madame seeks, I can give the greatest proof the parties 
are no longer here !’ ’ 

The latter part of the speech Inez scarcely heard. 

Rising abruptly and hurrying to the table where the 
book lay, she bent over the written page and raised her 
veil just enough to distinguish the writing without expos- 
ing her face. 


THE KING’S DAUGHTERS. 


191 


One fleeting glance —more wag not necessary— then the 
veil dropped suddenly— her hands fell a dead weight — 
she staggered for a moment, walked dizzily and half 
blindly away from the table, and then reaching out her 
arms to Margaret Herndon, as though in the darkness of 
her soul she groped for some support: 

“Take me away!” she gasped, in a sharp, jerky whis- 
per. “ Alaric wrote it— Alaric is married. Take me 
away — and let me think — think!” 

Robert sprung quickly to her side, and his arm, moving 
suddenly, wrapped itself about her waist, and supported 
her fast expiring strength; tlien silently beckoning his 
mother to follow, he turned toward the street. 

There was not a word spoken— in utter silence the 
clerk sprung forward and swung back the door, in utter 
silence they moved by him, and went out into the garish 
October sunlight, and in utter silence they sat through 
all the miserable moments that followed, as the fiacre 
clattered over the pavements of Paris, and whirled them 
back to the Rue des Anges. 

With the solemnity of mourners just returning from 
having buried their dead, they alighted and passed into 
the house, and not until the last echo of the departing car- 
riage had died away into the distance and was lost, did 
one word break the spell of that strange, unnatural still- 
ness. 

It was Robert who spoke it. 

Catching sight of Miss Catheron’s dead-white face as 
she mechanically removed her hat and dropped into 
a chair, he moved gently toward her and placed one ten- 
der hand upon her shoulder. 

“ My poor girl, don’t take it so hard as this!” he said, 
very gently. “ Is there nothing I can prove to you— how 
keenly I share your sorrow, and how truly we are your 
friends— my mother and I!” 

She lifted her blank, bewildered eyes and stared at him 
in spiritless despaii*. 

“Tell me if lam awake or dreaming?” she said in a 
dazed way. “It all seems so numb here— in my head— 
and so cold here, in my heart. Alaric is married— you 
heard what that man said, didn’t you? Alaric Keath is 
married, and only four months ago he told me that life 
would be worthless to him without me. I can’t make it 
out. It is so strange, so horrible, so unnatural. Did he 
make no effort to find me? Didn’t he care what became 
of me that he forgot me so soon?— worse than forgot— 
married within four months after the time I was ab- 
ducted? Married whom, I wonder? Married whom?— 
did you ever hear?” 


193 


THE KING^S DAUGHTERS. 


“ Have I not already told you!” responded Robert in a 
choking voice. “His wife was formerly Miss Inez 
Catheron, the granddaughter of Lord Glandore.” 

“But I am Inez Catheron, I tell you — I am Lord Glan- 
dore’s grandchild. Will you never believe me, that you 
keep telling me this? Lord Keith has not married me, 
Mr. Herndon!” 

“But Lord Keith has certainly married Miss Inez 
Catheron, my poor girl,” protested Robert, quietly. 
“ Only three days ago he told me that — told me here in 
this verj^ room. Besides that, I saw Miss Catheron two 
years ago. She is small and dark, with hazel eyes and 
dusky hair, while you ” 

She shrunk back from him with a faint, shuddering 
cry, and her e5'es expanded with terror. 

“Are you mad, or am I?” she uttered in a faint voice 
— a strange, unearthly voice. “Oh, Mr. Herndon, wliat 
hideous jugglei-y is there in all this? Surely I should 
know myself? Surely you will not have me believe ihat 
you think me insane! I am Inez Catheron, I tell you, I 
am Lord Glandore’s granddaughter, and yet ” 

“And yet Lord Glandore’s granddaughter has never 
disappeared,” he interrupted gentl3^ "Dear child, do 
not let this strange hallucination prej' upon your mind. 
Let me reason with you, and show you how impossible it 
is. If ]\Iiss Catheron, the great English heiress, had ever 
been spirited away the whole world would have rung 
with the intelligence— and nothing has been said regard- 
ing such a thing — nothing! Wait! Stop! Let me speak 
on. If Miss Catheron had been stolen from home, her 
grandfather would have moved heaven and earth to find 
her— and Lord Glandore has never searched for you! 
And again, if Miss Catheron had vanished, she could not 
have married Lord Alaric Keith upon the tenth of last 
August, while here— read it for yourself, my dear— here 
is the last edition of the Court Jotmial, which I purchased 
this morning when I went in search of the fiacre to con- 
vey us to the Hotel de Paris.” 

He took the paper from his pocket as he spoke, and 
unfolding it laid his finger upon a brief paragraph under 
the head of “Continental Gossip a paragraph which 
ran thus; 

“ Lord Alaric Keith, the lucky man who carried away 
the great matrimonial prize of the season upon the tenth 
of last August, passed through Greville last Tuesday on 
his way to Paris, with his charming bride. Lady Keith, 
who is one of the famous beauties of the day, will be a 
welcome addition to the list of lovely women at the gay 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


19B 


French capital, where, doubtless, some of the favoi’ed few 
recollect her as the great English heiress. Miss Inez 
Catheron, who paid a brief visit to Paris some two or 
three years ago in company with her aunt, the Countess 
of Elsdale!” 

Straight through from beginning to ending, losing not 
a word. Miss Catheron read that brief paragraph, then, 
with a sudden piteous cry, she flung the paper from her 
and sprung to her feet. 

“My Heaven! has all the Avorld ^one mad?” she cried 
out in a voice of misei’y and despair. “Lord Keith has 
not married me, I tell you, and I am Inez Catheron, I— 
/, and no other. I have not been changed, I have been 
stolen, but I am still myself, and if they were the last 
words I had to utter in this woi'ld, I would call Heaven 
to witness them and say; 

“ I am Inez Catheron, the heiress of Glandore!” 

“But if Lord Glandore himself deny it, my poor 
child ” 

“ He Avill not deny it— he can’t deny it !” she inteiTupted 
him, Avildly. “Take me to him— let me see and speak 
Avith him personally and then be convinced!” 

“No,” responded Robert, Avho felt that it Avould be bub 
a needless waste of money to throw it aAvay upon a jour- 
ney he Avas certain Avould be useless. “We cannot go to 
him, my poor girl, for it costs money to travel, and I am 
poor, indeed. But this I will do if it Avill satisfy you. I 
Avill Avrite to Lord Glandoi*e, and if you be indeed his 
grandchild, he will come and take you home.” 

“Oh, write at once, sir — Avrite at once, then!” ex- 
claimed Inez. 

And having procured the necessary materials, Robert, 
without further hesitancy, sab down and Avrote this: 

“ In the interest of one Avhoso welfare is as dear to me 
as my life, I venture to intrude myself upon your notice, 
and to ask of you a favor, Avhose reAvard Avill be the con- 
sciousness that you have perhaps saved the reason of one 
human being, and brightened the life of yet another. I 
Avill not bore you sir, Avith a long preface, and, imperti- 
nent as Amu may deem the favor I Avish to ask of you, I 
beg, I implore you to answer this letter with your OAvn 
hand. 

“ One Avho is dear to me has, I believe, become pos- 
sessed of a singular hallucination, and fancies, poor child, 
that your granddaughter. Miss Inez Catheron, has been 
abducted from home, and that you are ci'azed Avith anx- 
iety I’egarding her fate. Will you not, for the sake of 


194 


THE KIN&S DAEGHTERS. 


doing a charitable action, tell her if this be true, and wiii 
the everlasting gratitude of 

“Your humble servant, 

“ Robert Herndon.” 

Then 'followed the address to which a reply should be 
sent, and, having read the letter to Inez, Robert sealed 
and directed it, and then bade her don her bonnet and 
shawl. 

“ You shall post it with your own hands, to be sure that 
there is no mistake,” he said. “But, oh! dear heart, I 
beg of you be prepared to face the worst.” 

“lam facing the worst now,” she answered. “Wait 
until grandpapa replies to your qiieer letter, and you will 
no longer doubt me like this!” 

“ God speed the answer!” he replied, as he led her out, 
and a few minutes later her own hands had stamped the 
letter and sent it on its Avay. 

For three weary days she waited in an agony of sus- 
pense, Avhich nothing, not even Mrs. Herndon’s tender so- 
licitude nor Robert’s loving gentleness, could allay, and it 
was not until the morning of the fourth day that the 
longed-for answer came. 

“It is grandpa’s Avriting — it is grandpa’s writing!” she 
cried, excitedly , as Robert put the letter in her hand. “Now 
y-ou shall know hoAv cruelly you have misjudged me, and 
how terribly you all have been mistaken. Read it, Mr, 
Herndon, read it aloud that Ave inay”^ all hear the happy news 
together.” 

She passed the letter back to him, and, breaking the 
seal, Robert opened it and read this : 

“ Dear Sir,— Your singular letter has just reached me, 
and, Avere not y'our sincerity so evident, pardon me if 
I say that I should treat it as the Avork of a madman. 
HoAvever, since you are in earnest, it Avill do no harm to 
answer this one request, after Avhich I beg you Avill never 
allude to this matter again, as I do not desire to have the 
name of my granddaughter mixed up Avith rumors or 
‘ hallucinations ’ of any shape. Regarding her I have only 
to say, in this connection, that she is now Lady Inez Keith, 
and, so far from having been " abducted, ’ she returned to 
Glandore Court yesterday, in company Avith her husband 
and Lady Blanche Hay, and if your fanciful friend, or 
sweetheart ” 

But beyond that Robert did not read, for then there 
came the interruption he had anticipated. 

With a sudden scream of agony and despair Inez 
darted to his side, glanced at the letter, recognized the 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 195 

writing, read for herself the words he had uttered, and 
then : 

“ Cast off! repudiated even by him!” she cried out, in a 
heartrending voice. “Oh, Heaven! what miracle is this? 
Has my life been all a dream, or is this madness com- 
ing on? God help me! God pity me! My life has gone 
astray!” 

And thei’e, with that broken ciy, life and the world 
slipped away from her. a darkness fell upon her tortured 
brain, and Robert, springing forward, caught her as she 
fell, and, holding her in his powerful arms, bore her up- 
stairs to the bed she was not to leave again for many 
weary days ! 


CHAPTER XLIH. 

“unhiask! unmask! the time has come!” 

“ My lady ! my lady ! pray, awake ; I have a message for 
you— a message from Lord Keith!” 

Startled into wakefulness by these words, accompanied 
as thej' were by the sound of some one rapping sharply 
upon her chamber door. Lady Blanche Hay sprung out of 
bed, lighted the gas, and threw a silken dressing-gown 
over her elaborate robe de nuit. 

” What is wanted? Is it you, Delphine?” she breath- 
lessly demanded, as she began to remove the fastenings of 
the door. 

“It is I— yes, my lady !” responded Delphine, from the 
other side of the wooden barrier. “I have just received 
a message from Lord Keith’s valet, and he desired me 
to report her ladyship’s decision without an instant’s 
delay.” 

” Her ladyship’s decision!" Lady Blanche had by this 
time opened the door, and was now standing face to face 
v/ith her maid. “What in the world are you talking 

about, you stupid goose? and what Come in, do! I 

can’t stand here all night in the draught from that hall- 
way— what has Lady Keith’s ‘decision’ to do with me, 
that you needs must drag me out of bed at half-past one 
o’clock in the morning.” 

“ Ah, mon Dieu! it has much to do with your ladyship, 
otherwise I should not have disturbed you so soon after 
retiring,” responded Delphine. “I have the trunks to 
pack without an instant’s delay, my lady ; Lord Keith has 
just sent word that we are to leave* Paris at daylight, and 
return without delay to Glandore Court!” 

“ Leave Paris at daylight!” gasped her ladyship, grow- 
ing pale with disappointment and anger. “To leave 
Paris, just when everything was going as I wished ; to 


196 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


leave Paris, just when he Oh, this is monstrous— 

this is too much to bear! To whose insane idea do we 
o^ye this sudden change in our plans, I should like to 
know?” 

‘‘It is Lady Keith’s desire, so Henri saj’s, my lady. 
She has taken a sudden notion to return to England, with- 
out an hour’s delay, and, of course, his lordship honors 
her whim, even to “leaving by the very first train. We 
are to start at half-past four o’clock, and there is barely 
time for me to pack your ladyship’s trunks unless I begin 
at once. Shall I do so. Lady Blanche? His lordship sent 
word that as the hour of starting was very early, and you 
might not wish to sacrifice your night’s rest, he should not 
feel slighted if you chose to wait until a later train, in- 
stead of accompanying ” 

‘‘ I will go with them— I will go with them 1” interrupted 
Lady Blanche, excitedly. ‘‘ I am not such a fool as to let 
him slip through my fingers when I have so well begun to 

mold his thoughts to Pardiexi ! Why are you staring 

at me like that, you fool? Go! begin your packing at once 
and let me have as much sleep as I can. To leave Paris 
when all was working so well and my revenge might have 
been accomplished before another week had passed” — 
this to herself as Delphine closed the door and hurried 
away. ‘‘Oh, you shall pay for this whim, Zillah Keith! 
you shall pay for having blocked my game in this way — 
pay with added suffering, and that too as soon as my hate 
can bring down upon your head the bolt which destroj^s 
his happiness through yours! 

‘‘ So you would fly from Paris, would you? before Gypsy 
Jock can discover your whereabouts and compromise you 
in your husband’s eyes — you would escape the meshes of 
the net I have woven about you ; undermine the barrier I 
am building between you and him, and screen jmurself 
from all further peril by myteriously disappearing. It is 
a clever scheme. Lady Zillah Keith, but unfortunately for 
you, there is an unknown foe in the camp and she will 
find a way to spoil your little game — thus!" 

As she spoke she slid the bolt into its socket, hastened 
away from the door, turned the gas still higher and once 
again resorted to her writing-tablet, sat down and penned 
a hasty message to her father- 

In the same misty morning light which shone over the 
house-tops of the city when Robert Herndon and Inez 
Catheron steamed into the depot at Paris, the Keith party 
passed out of the gay French capital, and began the jour- 
ney to England and Glandore; but it was not until they 
boarded the packet at Calais, and were rapidly leaving 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


197 


the shores of La Belle France behind them, that Zillah’s 
face lost the expression of agonizing terror, which it had 
borne ever since that startling affair in the /oyer of the 
opera-house, or that she regained sufficient courage to I’e- 
move the veil which she had worn ever since she left the 
hotel, and once more mingle with strangers without 
dreading the consequences. 

From the moment they had boarded the vessel she had 
pleaded headache as an excuse for retiring to her state- 
room, and it Avas not until the Calais docks were a mile 
distant and the packet was buffeting the short, choppy 
Avaves of the English Channel, that she ventured to leave 
her retirement and join her husband and Lady Blanche 
on deck. 

“Well, by George! this is a surprise, my darling!” ex- 
claimed his lordship—” laughing all over his face”— as he 
looked up and caught sight of her. “Why, I thought 
that the ‘ chop ’ of the channel, aided by that av retched 
headache, Avould have given you a violent attack of mal 
de mer, and here you are looking a thousand per cent, 
better than Avhen we first came aboard. Pray”— laugh- 
ingly this — “ what manner of creature are you. Lady 
Keith, that you defy all natural laws in this style, and 
come out of an attack of illness looking as though you 
had never endured an hour’s sickness in your life? Upon 
my soul, SAveetheart, if I hadn’t seen j ou so pale and ill 
and Avretched Avhen you went below. I should believe you 
Avei’e afflicted Avith the imaginary ills of the fashionable 
Avorld, or had ‘put them on ’ for effect.” 

“How do you know but Avhat I didV she answered, 
with a laugh. 

“ How do I knoAv that the sun is shining this minute?” 
he responded. “ You are above deceit, even of the 
smallest and most trivial kind, my darling, and the 
knowledge of that Avould be sufficient to assure me of 
the truth, even though my own eyes had not seen the 
evidence of your suffeiung. To be a dissembler one must 
have a different face and a Avidely different record from 
the candid ex-Miss Catheron, my darling. Why, how 
pale you have grown again, Inez ! What is the matter, 
dear? Your moods to-day seem as variable as April 
Aveather.” 

“It is nothing,” she answered, Avith a faint, unsteady 
laugh. “ Onl}" the effect of the rocking of the A^essel, 
Alaric. After all, you see, I may be verging upon mal de 
mer." 

“You ai*e certainly the most charmingly contradictory 
specimen of your very contradictory sex, my dear,” he 
laughed in return. “ When one looks for you to be sea- 


198 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


sick, you remain undisturbed ; and, when one begins to 
compliment you upon your powers of resistance, you switch 
around and become sea sick. Did you ever see such a con- 
trary creature. Lady Blanche?” 

My lady’s anger at being dragged out of Paris, just when 
her schemes were working so nicely, was in nowise ap- 
peased, and, in her angry vindictiveness, she could not re- 
sist the opportunity to administer one little stab to the 
woman who had caused her discomfiture. 

“Inez is certainly a most contradictory creature,” she 
sweetly said, “and it is well for her that she has mai-ried 
the least suspicious and least jealous man in the world, 
since she chooses to display her contradictory points at 
such peculiar times. Some men would be tempted to 
think'it a tacit admission that deceit had been practiced 
if their wives choose to grow deatldy pale at the-time 
such a thing was mentioned— as our dear Inez did just 
now !” 

Something like an electrical shock seemed, to pass 
through Zillah’s body, and, whirling sharply, she glanced 
into Lady Blanche’s eyes, the color rising in one swift, 
red wave that stained her face from brow to chin, and, 
fading, left it white as pearl. 

To her this direct allusion to a deceit which her lady- 
ship had promised to aid her in hiding from the world, 
was too plainly an intentional act to be mistaken for an 
unconscious error, and, for the first time in her life, she 
caught a glimpse of the face behind the mask, and 
doubted the honesty of the woman she had thought her 
friend. 

But with Lord Keith it was different, and, if my lady 
had hoped to give him a cue in that treacherous allusion 
to his wife’s actions, she failed signally, for, having noth- 
ing but the most implicit confidence in the integrity of the 
woman he had married, he took Lady Blanche’s remarks 
as a joke, and laughed the matter off. 

“Ah, by George! I hadn’t thought of that!” he said, 
good humoredly. “Better time your fits of sea-sickness 
to a less suspicious point in the conversation after this, 
Lady Keith, or the first thing you know I’ll have a visit 
from the green-eyed monster, and the Times will come 
out with a sensational article, headed either ‘ A Tragedy 
in High Life,’ or ‘An Othello of the Nineteenth Century.’ 
Only we haven’t any deep-dyed villain to play the role of 
lago, and compromise the fair Desdemona.” 

“But we have an Enielia, and she assisted lago, you 
recollect!” returned Zillah, waving her hand toward 
Lady Blanche as she spoke, and trying hard to act as 
though she, too, treated the affair as a jest. ‘‘And 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


199 


Emelia, you kno\v, Avas even more treacherous than lago, 
and her opportunities to create a tragedy were even better 
than his. if we produce “ Othello ” some time at Glan- 
dore Court, will you play Emelia, Lady Blanche?” 

My lady realized that her impatient malice had lost her 
the blind allegiance of her blindest dupe— realized that 
she had betrayed herself by that one foolhardy act— and 
understood that this question was not a jesting one, but 
the earnest inquiry of a Avoman Avho understood her at 
last. 

‘‘If it Avill please you, yes, my dear,” she SAveetly an- 
swered, keeping her eyes fixed upon Zillah’s the Avhile. 
‘‘If you and Lord Keith will play Desdemona and Othello, 
I Avill promise to assume the role of Emelia, and between 
us Ave may get up a stirring sensation.” 

‘‘ ‘I’ll not believe but Desdemona’s honest!’ ” quoted 
Lord Keith, folding his arms and striking a melo-dramatic 
attitude. 

Then, A\uth a sudden laugh: 

‘‘ There!” he added, ” that’s all I know of the part, and 
that ’ ’ 

‘‘ That is enough for you to know,” interrupted Zillah, 
affecting a careless laugh. ” You mustn’t forget that por- 
tion of the role, Alaric, for much depends upon it. And 
noAv, if you don’t mind telling Martha Boggs that I should 
like to ha\’e my rugs and steamer-chair brought up on 
deck. I’ll be ever so much obliged to you, Alaric. The air 
is so fresh and bracing, I think I’ll remain up here until 
we land at Dover.” 

“Mind it? Why, certainly not, my darling!” he an- 
swered. “Just make yourself as comfortable as you can 
upon the settee, and in a feAV moments I’ll have everything 
arranged to suit you.” 

Then stopping but a moment to fold his own traveling- 
rug about her, he stalked away in the direction of the 
cabin, whistling as he Avent a fragment from last night’s 
opera. 

Zillah sat motionless and Avatched him go— her face as 
Avhite as death, poor child, and her eyes filled Avith a 
troubled expression— then turning sloAvly as he passed from 
sight, she fixed a steady stare upon the smiling counten- 
ance of Lady Blanche. 

For several seconds there was perfect silence between 
them as they sat and looked into each other’s eyes, then : 

“You had a purpose in doing that thing, had you not. 
Lady Blanche Hay?” she said in a sIoav, unsteady Amice. 
“ It could not have been accidental, for you deliberately 
called my husband’s attention to a fact Avhich he Avould 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


m 

not otherwise have noticed, and I think you meant to do 
it. Didn’t you?” 

‘‘I meant to do it; yes!” returned her ladyship, with 
smiling audacity. ‘'Could you doubt it — could you he a 
woman and fail to understand it?” 

‘‘Then you deliberately planned to have my husband 
become suspicious of me?” 

” I deliberately planned to have your husband become 
suspicious of you— yes, again, my dear!” 

The last faint suggestion of color fluttered out of Lady 
Keith’s face and left it chalky white from brow to chin; 
she sat a moment in deep silence, mechanically turning 
her wedding ring and looking straight into the eyes of her 
enemy, then in a voice that sounded strange even to her 
own ears: 

‘‘ I don’t think I have understood jmu until now. Lady 
Blanche,” she said. ‘‘ Tell me — which are ymu? A friend 
or a foe?” 

‘‘ A foe, I am afraid, my dear!” returned her ladyship, 
with bloodless composure. ‘‘You ask a stmightforward 
question, and that, of course, calls for a straightforward 
answer. Voila! you have it!” 

Some fitful patches of color came and went on Zillah’s 
face; she drew her breath in one wavering, indrawn sigh, 
and dropped back upon her seat. 

‘‘ Will you tell me how long you have been this?” she 
said, after a momentary pause. ‘‘ I think I can have done 
nothing since yesterday to change your feelings so com- 
pletely, and Am I right in imagining that you have 

been playing a part all along. Lady Blanche?” 

‘‘ You are right in believing that — yes, once more, my 
dear !” 

Zillah had opened her lips to ask yet another question, 
but at that moment she caught sight of Lord Keith return- 
ing with the steamer-chair, and she realized that the in- 
terview must end at once. 

‘‘ When we reach Glandore Court I must see you in pri- 
vate, and leai-n what I am to expect at your hands. Lady 
Blanche,” she said, hastily. 

‘‘ Delighted to accommodate you, my dear LacZy Keith !” 
returned her ladyship, Avithasweet, derisive laugh. ‘‘It 
is time to unmask at last, I perceive, and let Glandore 
Court be the field of that charming operation.” 

‘‘Here you are, my darling!” broke in Lord Keith at 
this juncture, as he strode forward, and, setting down the 
steamer-chair, proceeded to adjust it. ‘‘Boggs will be 
along presently with the rugs, and ” 

‘‘ Thank you, but I don’t think I care to remain on deck 
any longer,” she interrupted. ‘‘We have only a short 


201 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 

time to continue on the vessel, and, as I am not feeling 
well, I think I will go back to my stateroom.” 

“ Contradictions upon contradictions’ head are piled!” 
exploded his lordship, in blank amazement. ” In the name 
of all that is reasonable, Inez, what is the matter with vou 
to-day?” 

“I don’t kno^y— I can’t tell— only— only that I want you 
with me, Alaric!” she answered, with a sob. ‘‘Please 
come below and remain there — please do, my husband. I 
am so weak, Alaric. so weak that I cannot stand, and— 
and I want you with me all the time.” 

Then, as he Avound his arm about her and led her away, 
overstrained nature gave out; she reeled blindly, uttered 
one faint, wailing cry of misery and despair, and fainted 
in his arms. 


CHAPTER XLIV. 

“marry, but thou’rt an honest devil.” 

The swoon, however, was not of long duration, for 
scarcely had his lordship borne her into their private state- 
room ere, to his unspeakable relief, her eyes opened to con- 
sciousness once more. 

He did not distress her questioning the reason of her 
weakness — for he attributed it solely to the delicate con- 
dition of her health — and Avhen she begged him to shut all 
others from the room and remain with her until they 
reached England, he Avas only too willing to humor her 
fancy, nor did he remark anything strange in the request, 
Avhen upon landing at Dover, she again made it. 

“I must not let him be alone Avith that Avoman?” she 
kept saying to herself. “1 must keep him by mo Avhile I 
can, and keep him aAvay from her as long ns it is possible!” 

That night they passed at the Lord Warden Hotel at 
Dover, and acting upon Zillah’s request, Lord Keith and 
his Avife supped in private, and in the morning (through 
an apparent Avhim of Zillah’s), breakfast Avas ordered at 
least tAvo hours before Lady Blanche had opened her eyes, 
so that a meeting between the two ladies Avas avoided, 
until the hour Avhen the entire party took the train for 
London, from whence they were to journey to Leith. 

And here again, Lady Blanche Avas made to see that she 
Avas not to have matters all her oavii Ava}', for Lord Keith 
having (most opportunely for his wife) encountered at 
the hotel a Welsh curate and his daughter, Avhose ac- 
quaintance he had made during his sojourn in the Princi- 
pality, and Avho Avere now traveling in the same direction 
as the Keith party, Zillah i)retended to take such a fancy 
to the dowdy and insipid offspidng of the equally insipid 


202 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


Mr. Giles Evans, that she easily persuaded his lordship 
to invite them to share their private compartment, and 
having monopolized the young woman, and drawn her 
into conversation with Lord Keith and herself, left Lady 
Blanche no other alternative than to endure the moral 
platitudes of the Eeverend Giles, and thereby be kept 
aloof during the entire journey. 

In the cool twilight of the October evening the train 
reached the Leith Station, where the Glandore equipage 
awaited the arrival of his lordship and his bride, the old 
earl having been notified of their home-coming by a tele- 
gram sent that morning from Dover — and after taking a 
kindly adieu of the Reverend Giles and his daughter, 
who were to journey still further into Kent, Lord Keith 
and the two ladies left the train and entered the waiting 
vehicle. 

It was quite dark when they finally reached Glandore 
Court, and not until she was again folded in the old earl’s 
arms (in spite of his gouty foot he had insisted upon hob- 
bling out to meet them), did Zillah feel anything like a 
sense of security. 

“ Bless me, my darling, 5*011 can’t have found a union 
with 5*our adorable Alaric such an eartlily paradise as you 
anticipated, for you certainly look far from well, Inez!” 
exclaimed Lord Glandore, after the first happ5^ confusion 
of greeting had passed and something like calmness was 
settling down upon the scene. ‘‘ Keith, 5*011 rascal, is this 
the way you take care of my darling? Upon 1115* word, 
she looks as pale and careworn as a charit\' scholar. No 
Avonder you cut short your lione5nnoon if this is the result 
of it!” 

” If 5*ou could have seen her two da5^s ago, 5*ou’d have 
altered 5*our opinion, I fanc5’’,” returned Lord Keith. 
” Lad 5' Blanche will tell 5*ou that Inez looked as fresh and 
blooming as a rose Avhen she arrived in Paris. But she 
Avas taken suddenl5' ill yesterda5* ” (he Avas upon the point 
of confessing all about the picture and the meeting Avitb 
Jock, but upon consideration decided that it would only 
Avound Zillah afresh and make Lord Glandore indignant, 
and so abandoned the idea), “and since tliat time she 
seems to have ‘ run down ’ so terribly that she is little 
more than a ghost of what she Avas!” 

” But I shall be all right now, grandpapa,” hastily sup- 
plemented Zillah. ” I onl5* Avanted to get back to 5*011 and 
dear Aunt Alicia. But let us talk no more of my looks; 
consider instead my feelings, and please have dinner 
served as speedily as possible. Alaric, do give yourself 
into Henri’s hands Avithout further delay, or 5*ou will never 
be dressed,, and — shall I confess it? — I am alarmingly 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


203 


hungry. I am going up-stairs to begin my toilet at once. 
Lady Blanche, your rooms are close to mine, will you not 
accompany me?” 

‘‘With pleasure, my dear,” responded her ladyship 
sweetly, knowing full well what the invitation portended 
— but before she could say more: 

"Lady Blanche?” repeated Lord Glandore with some 
surprise. ‘‘Ai’en’tyou getting remarkably formal all of 
a sudden, Inez? Or ’’—with a laugh — ‘‘ have you and her 
ladyship had a falling out, my dear, that you ai’e so par- 
ticular about tacking on the title? It used to be ‘ Blanche ’ 
alone before you left home.” 

” A rose by any other name would smell as sweet, 
grandpapa,” responded Zillah with a flush and a rather 
unsteady laugh. ‘‘Alaric will tell you that I have de- 
veloped a faculty for changing my mind in the most un- 
accountable ways of late, aird of doing all manner of con- 
tradictory things. ’ ’ 

‘‘Yes, by George! I’ll take an affadavit to that,” ac- 
quiesced his lordship. “ Only I never stopped to remark 
(until Lord Glandore called attention to it) that you have 
added the title to Lady Blanche’s name whenever you 
have occasion to address her since we left Paris.” 

‘‘Have you indeed noticed so much as that, oh, blind 
Othello?” laughed her ladyship, Avith a shrug of her shoul- 
ders. ‘‘ Well — you recollect that I am to play Emelia, and 
it is part of Emelia’s duty to draw suspicion upon Desde- 
mona — well, if you watch close you may find some odder 
things than that to remark as the play progresses to its 
end.” 

Then fluttering by him, she walked after Zillah, Avhohad 
already begun to mount the stairs. 

Leading the way straight to her own boudoir. Lady 
Keith flung open the door, dismissed faithful old Martha 
Boggs, who was awaiting her coming, ushered Lady 
Blanche into the room, and then closing the door turned 
and faced her. 

‘‘ I think you know Avhy I have led you here, Lady 
Blanche Hay,” she said, in a slightly nervous voice, as she 
lifted her eyes to the calmly insolent face of her compan- 
ion; ‘‘but if you do not, it will do no harm to tell you 
that I mean to have a perfect Tinderstanding with the 
traitress, who, under the mask of friendship, tempted me 
to sin, and then, Judas-like, betrays her trust. I will not 
rest even one night beneath this roof, I Avill not Avait even 
one hour before I knoAV Avhat I have to expect at your 
hands, and Avhat motive you had for inventing this dia- 
bolical plot! Tell me Avhat devil prompted you to play the 
role of Serpent in this second Eden, and for your oavu 


204 THE KING^S DAUGHTERS. 

base ends sacrifice a woman who trusted and believed 
you?” 

“Quick curtain and loud applause from the gallery,” 
supplemented Lady Blanche with a sweet, mocking 
laugh. “Bless me, how very dramatic, to be sure, my 
sweet, seraphic Zillah the Gypsy. Haven’t you mistaken 
your vocation, my dearest? You ought to have adopted 
the stage. Lady Keith.'''' 

“No matter what I ought to have done. Lady Blanche; 
the woi*st mistake of my life seems to have been the be- 
lief that you were my friend— my worse folly, the idiotic 
idea that you were a woman, not a snake I No! do not 
trouble yourself to refute the evidence — heaven has set its 
mark upon you, and, being a serpent, no argument of 
yours can make you appear a dove. Speak, and speak 
quickly, if you please. I simply want to know what end 
you had in view when you tempted me to consent to this 
wicked imposture, and, having tempted me, must needs be 
vile enough to betray! What did 1 ever do to you. Lady 
Blanche Hay, that you invented this infamous plot to be- 
tray and ruin me?” 

“ You, my dear? — nothing!” repeated her ladyship, with 
insolent sang fro id. “To be candid with you, I never had 
the slightest care ivhat became of Zillah, the gypsy, so long 
as I reached through her the goal at which I aimed. You 
were my tool, sweetest — the cat’s paw which raked my 
chestnuts from the fire, and those ‘chestnuts ’ were called 
Inez Cathex’on and Alaric Keith. The former I hated, as 
only a woman can hate the rival who comes between her 
and the man she loved ” 

“You love my husband?” 

“Patience — patience! I put it in the past tense, recol- 
lect. I did not say the man I love, but the man I loved, 
my dear— loved, lost and learned to hate all in one short 
hour!” 

“ And that was Alaric Keith?” 

“ That was Alaric Keith— yes,” responded her ladyship, 
Avith an intensity that made her voice hiss. “ I loved him 
and he repulsed me— reviled me — left me, and manlike, 
thought I could forget. Forgetf I arose from that spot 
Avith the spirit of a demon in my heart. I swore to have re- 
venge— and I lent my Avhole life to the accomplishment of 
the task. When I learned that he loved Inez Catheron, I 
hated her because she had power to Avin Avhat I had lost, 
and power to hold what I could neAmr grasp; but, Avhen I 
saw 7/ouand found you Avere her living counterpart— found 
that you, too, loved this man Avhose station is so far above 
yours as are the stars Avhose lamps shed luster on the 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


205 


lowly earth below, then, and not until then, I knew what 
shape my vengeance was to take. 

“ I would remove Inez Catheron from his path and from 
mine, I told myself. I would give this man, who had 
spurned me, a wife who was born of gypsies— a wife whose 
origin would rack his soul with hoiTor if he ever learned 
of it. I would give his name and his honor to the keeping 
of a vagabond — give his children a mother whose birth 
w’ould be an everlasting shame to them and a never-ceas- 
ing curse to their father, and, when I had brought to him 
such suffering as he had brought to me, I would remove 
rny mask, and say : 

“ ‘ Keith, this is my work ! Was it worth your while to 
spurn a woman who loved you?’ This I have planned, 
and this I have accomplished. You were merely the in- 
strument of my revenge, and your ultimate fate was 
nothing to me. I never wasted a thought upon you— 
never stopped to think whether I liked or d^sliked you, 
until I knew that he loved you, and loved you better than 
he had loved the woman whose place you filled by fraud ! 

“In the hour I realized that, I hated Zillah, the gypsy, 
as I had hated Inez Catheron, the heiress; and, in taking 
revenge upon him, it is doubly sweet to know that I shall 
also ruin the woman he loves! You are an impostor, and 
he will never forgive you; you are a g5’^psy, and the 
knowledge of it will fill him with horror and contempt, 
and the liour which brings your downfall will bring his 
ruin and the disgrace of the child you are yet to bear 
him. It is for his suffering and for his shame I am work- 
ing, and all means are good means, so that they gain the 
end. 

“I shall ruin you, Lady Keith, so that I may cru.sh 
your husband! I shall make him suspect you — make him 
, suffer a thousand agonies of doubt and fear, and, when I 
have torn his soul with such anguish as he tore mine, I 
shall denounce you for the thing you are, and blast his 
life beyond redemption! He trampled upon my heart, 
but now his is in my hands, and I will wring it dry. Lady 
Zillah Keith— wring it dry, and laugh at the ruin I have 
made!” 


CHAPTER XLV. 

“BUILT BY MY HANDS, IT FELL AND CRUSHED ME!” 

' No movement — no cry. 

For one moment Zillah stood as though every fiber of 
her body had been changed to marble, so still she was, 
so deathly pale; then with a terrible calmness — a calm- 
ness born of that utter despair which crucifies hopej and 


206 


THE KIN&S EAXJGHTEttS. 


leaves, to the miserable, no path but a suicidal one— she 
walked slowly forward and looked straight inte my lady’s 
eyes. 

“ Your ydan has one great merit — clearness!” she said, 
in a didl, dead voice, as coldly passionless as the falling of 
shattered ice. “ You have omitted nothing that would 
tend to make me understand it, and nothing that would 
heap the last burning coal of your malice upon the head 
of the man you hate; but that man is my husband, and 
—do you think I will permit you to do this. Lady Blanche 
Hay?” 

” Has any one ashed you, my dear?” exclaimed her lady- 
ship, with one of her queer, soundless laughs. ‘‘ Poor wit- 
less fool! do you hope to prevent it? Do you think that 
you can upset a scheme laid by me, and by any act of 
yours save the man at whose ruin I am aiming?” 

''Yes!” The words dropped from her lips, slowly, 
coldly, mechanically, as though she were an image en- 
dowed with the semblance of a human voice. “Yes — 
Lady Blanche Hay ; I believe I can do it ; I hnotv I can do 
it; for the hour that brings my ruin, brings your death, 
and you are not willing to die just yet.” 

‘‘What do you mean, you poor fool?” 

‘‘I mean what I have said. Lady Blanche Hay!” re- 
turned Zillah, with that same terrible calmness. ‘‘ If 
you are without jjity for him and me, 1 shall be without 
mercy for the woman who wreaks our ruin. Break my 
heart and spoil my husband’s life, if you dare. Lady Hay; 
for, to do it, you must face the consequences of your own 
acts, reap the harvest of your own crimes, and fall by the 
very sin with which you have built the foundation of this 
unholy scheme. To marry Lord Keith to a daughter of 
vagabonds, you have, on your own admission, conspired 
with others to remove Lord Glandore’s granddaughter 
from your path, and whatsoever the laws of Eomany* 
vengeance may countenance, the laws of the United King- 
dom do not sanction either abduction or murder. If Inez 
Catheron lived to-night, I would balk your vengeance by 
confessing the truth to my husband ; and then, to save him 
from sin, put out the life which you have spoiled for me, 
and so save him from disgrace. But Inez Catheron does 
not live, for you were a party to her destruction— you and 
Mai’co, your father — and in the hour you betray me to my 
husband, or attempt to lift one finger to work out his ruin, 
in that hour I will turn queen’s evidence. Lady Blanche 
Hay, and denounce you and your father as the murderei-s 
of Inez Catheron!” 

My lady uttered a faint, startled cry and fell back a 
step, pale with baffled spite. 


THE KINHS DAUGHTERS. 207 

The crushed worm had turned, and turning found 
strength to sting! 

“You did not reckon on this, I fancy, or you would 
not have shown your hand so soon!” resumed Zillah, in 
that same bleak, dispassionate voice. “But the woman 
who strikes a man through the wife who loves him, must 
remember that a power mightier than hers, has taught 
even the tigress to battle for her mate and perish in the 
defense of her young. And what the beast of the jungle 
do from instinct, the mate of a nobler animal, man, 
will emulate for love’s sweet sake, and, dying under the 
lash, x'emember to the last the loyalty of the wife and 
the duty of the mother ! Betray me to my husband — if 
you— dare. Lady Blanche Hay! for on the day you at- 
tempt it. on that day I will confess everything, and if 
it cost me my liberty forever, I will swear away your 
life and be content to know that you and your father 
have been hanged like dogs for the murder of Inez Cath- 
eron!” 

For a moment my lady stood and looked at her in 
wrathful silence— realizing with a bitter sense of rage and 
chagrin, how completely the tables had been turned against 
her, and how utterly the game was blocked. 

Blocked because she knew that Zillah had been driven to 
such a state of desperation, that, if she knew Inez Catheron 
still lived, she would confess the truth and destroy herself 
to save Lord Keith from disgrace, and believing her dead, • 
would keep her word and denounce her foe as the daugh- 
ter of a gypsy, and bring upon her imprisonment and social 
excommunication even though she could not really turn 
her over to the hangman’s hands and fulfill her desperate 
threat. 

Without waiting for her ladyship to reply. Zillah walked 
over to the door, and flinging it open, pointed to the hall. 

“Our interview is at an end. Lady Blanche,” she said, 
calmly. “ I have listened to you, and you have listened 
to me, and there is therefore no reason to prolong this 
unpleasant affair. Will you have the kindness to leave 
this room— not for the time being, but forever? I shall 
not care to see you here again so long as you remain under 
this roof, and if you have ordinary intelligence, you will 
understand that you are no longer a welcome guest, and 
Avill make your visit to Glandore Court shorter by several 
months than the period for which you were originally 
invited. While you remain here, however— for the sake 
of my husband and the miserable secret your arts have 
forced me to keep from him — I must continue to appear, 
if no longer affectionate, at least friendly toward you, but 
the task will be such a bitterly irksome one, that common 


208 


THE KIHHS DAUGHTERS. 


decency will. I trust, prompt you to make it as brief as 
possible, and by relieving me from distress, save yourself 
from deadly peril!” 

My lady shrugged her shoulders with an assumption of 
indifference, and walked toward the door. 

On the threshold she paused and looked smilingly 
back. 

“I don’t mind confessing to you, that j’ou are much 
sharper than I gave you credit for being, my dearest,” 
she sweetly said. “ But at the same time, don’t let con- 
ceit run away Avith you, and don’t fall into the error of 
believing that my father and I are the onh^ ones in danger 
so far as the removal of a certain party is concerned. If 
it is to be denounced as a conspiracj^ kindly^ recollect that 
it Avas a conspiracy of three, my dear, and that you are 
one of the trio. You did nothing in ignorance, my seraphic 
saint; you kneAV that the missing Avoman Avas to be re- 
moved, and you consented to fill her place Avithout being 
forced. Turn about is fair play, the Avhole Avorld over, 
you knoAv, so if I dare not act, please to recollect that you 
dare not speak — unless” — this Avith a slow, mocking 
laugh — ” you are Avilling to share part of our punishment, 
and in addition, to Avin the loathing and disgust of the 
man you have married. Take a fool’s advice, dear Lady 
Keith, and keep your tongue behind your teeth, for there 
is just a possibility that in denouncing me you may de- 
• stroy yourself. Good-evening, sweet pet. I should like 
to throw vitriol in that pretty, Avhite face of yours if I 
dared, for I don’t mind telling you that I hate you worse 
tlian I hated the Avoman Avhose place you have usurped ; 
and it Avould give me the greatest pleasure in the Avorld to 
see you lying dead at my feet this A’ery instant.” 

Bowing her, self out of the room, her face agloAv Avith 
sweetest smiles, she closed the door and fluttered softly 
aAvay in the direction of her own apartments. 

Once inside of tliem. however, her first act Avas to throw 
a hand mirror at Delphine, and order hei- to leave the room 
as expeditiously as possibh'; and this accomplished, she 
bolted the door and once again laid eager hands upon her 
Avriting-tablet. 

“Ten thousand curses upon her!” she uttered in a voice 
of suppre.ssed fury, apostrophizing, of cour.se, the Avoman 
from whose presence she had just been ordered. “Ten 
thousand curses on her, and ten thousand more upon my 
own bad temper Avhich prompted me to betray myself too 
soon, and sliow m3" hand before the game Avas Avon. That 
puling, love sick fool is shrewder than I imagined; but 
even so, not shrewd enough to break a lance Avith Maggie 
Talford and cheat her of her SAveet revenge. I dare no 


THE KING^S DAUGHTERS. 


200 


longer do anything openly— I dare no longer fight the 
battle myself— but all is not yet lost, and thus I’ll prove 
it!” 

Then driving the pen into the ink, she leaned over her 
tablet and wrote: 

“ Dear Father, — At all hazards have Jock come to 
Glandore Court within a fortnight, no matter what ruse 
you employ to get him here. Zillah has found out my 
game and determined to block it. I send you a blank 
check — fill it out for whatever sum you may need ; but if 
it takes every shilling I have in the world, send Jock here, 
or our revenge is lost. Maggie.” 


CHAPTER XLVI. 

“ SOMETHNG NOT DOWN ON THE BILLS.” 

The tinkling of the dinner-bell brought Lady Blanche 
Hay fluttering down stairs, -whither Lord Keith had al- 
ready preceded her, and where she found him chatting 
gayly with the old earl and Lady Elsdale. 

Zillah, however, was not present, nor did she join them 
even after they filed into the dining-room and took their 
places around the table, and inquiry regarding the cause 
of her absence acquainted my lady with the fact tliat Lady 
Keith had pleaded headache as an excuse for absenting 
herself, and had ordered dinner served in her own room. 

“ She is upset by our little interview 1” thought my lady 
as she received this piece of intelligence. “ It was a trifle 
too much for her nerves, and she hasn’t the courage to 
face me so soon after the ‘ passage at arms I’ Have a care 
my lady! have a care! It is the cool head that wins in 
such a game as this, and you are scarcely a match for me! 
If you Avill only keep on being weak and nervous, and re- 
main in your room for tivo or three days, I shall make 
good progre.ss in the work of undermining the happine.ss- 
of your devoted Alaric. I want to be alone with him as 
much as possible; I want to drop an occasional seed in the 
soil, and help it to grow by tender nui*siug, and I can only 
do it while you are out of sight and hearing!” 

But, as though Zillah was thoroughly cognizant of this 
amiable intention of her ladyship’s, dinner was no sooner 
over than Martha Boggs carried a message to Lord Keith, 
asking him to come and read to his wife, and, bidding 
everybody good-night, he hurried away and left her lady- 
ship to spend a dull evening with the old earl and his 
sister. 

Not that it was a customary thing for an evening to be 
dull when spent with these two, for Lady Elsdale was a 
brilliant conversationalist at all times, and, as a general 


210 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


rule, Loi’d Glandore was a host in himself, so numerous 
were his anecdotes, so witty his stock of small talk, and 
so sunny his disposition; and, although he had apparently 
been in the best of spirits in the earlier part of the even- 
ing, for some unaccountable reason he had suddenly be- 
come gloomy and abstracted, and took but little interest 
in the conversation. 

This sudden change had occurred just after Lord Keith 
had Avished them all good-night and gone up-stairs in 
obedience to his wife’s summons, and my lady could as- 
cribe no reason for it, other than that the evening mail — 
which the footman had carried in at that pei iod— had 
brought him some bad news, for after excusing himself 
and retiring in the best of humors to the library for the 
purpose of looking over his letters, the old earl had re- 
turned after half an hour’s absence in this singularly al- 
tered condition. 

At half-past ten Countess of Elsdale had given the signal 
for retiring, and set the example by preceding her lady- 
ship up-stairs, her ladyship had started to follow, but 
midway up the staircase had suddenly recollected remov- 
ing a diamond arrow from her throat for the purpose of 
casting aside the scarf she wore, and Avhich the heat of 
the wood-fire rendered uncomfortable, and hastening back 
to the drawing-room for the purpose of securing the jewel, 
which she remembered having pJa,ced upon the table be- 
side her chair, she was not a little surprised upon entering 
to find the old earl leaning forward in his seat beside the 
fireplace with an open letter in his hand, and giving un- 
mistakable signs of Avrath and indignation by his flushed 
face and his stormy mutterings. 

“ Goodness gracious!” exclaimed her ladyship, in a truly 
American fashion, as she arched her dark broAvs, and 
smiled at him. “Are you studying for the tragic stage. 
Lord Glandore, or ai-e you rehearsing the role of ‘ stern 
parent’ for somebody’s private theatricals! Why, you 
look positively murderous !” 

“Then my looks don’t belie me, for I assure you that I 
feel positively murderous. Lady Blanche!” responded his 
lordship, Avith a deep, double-Bass growl that made her 
ladyship grab up the missing jeAvel Avith laughing haste, 
and aver that “she had better escape before the desire 
Avas indulged at her expense.” 

“For,” said she, laughingly, “Shakespeare bemoans 
the fact that ‘ Iioav oft the means to do ill deeds makes ill 
deeds done,’ and if you are murderously inclined I may 
save myself from being slaughtered by taking refuge in 
flight!” 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


Sll 

Blanche/’ interposed his lordship, quickly. “I’m in a 
quandary over this infernal letter, and probably you will 
advise me what course to pursue regarding it. I don’t 
care to mention the affair to Inez, because I’m afraid it 
will annoy and distress her unnecessarily. I’m not sure 
whether 1 ought or ought not to say anything about it to 
Lord Keith; and, on the other hand, i can’t confide in 
Lady Elsdale, simply because Alicia never could keep a 
secret from Inez, and if I tell her — well, I might as well 
tell Lady Keith myself, and have done -with it.” 

“Dear me! Is it such a weighty matter, then, that 
absolute secrecy is required?” twittered her ladyship, as 
she turned back from the door and advanced toward 
him. 

“It’s the most outrageous thing in the world !” blurted 
his lordship, angrily. “ I don’t know what under the sun 
the fellow is driving at, or whether the whole thing is a 
hoax or not; but one thing is certain, I won't have my 
granddaughter’s name mixed up with any such low-lived 

hodge-podge as this, and Look at this letter. Lady 

Blanche. It came in the evening mail — came from Paris, 
and is written by some confounded chap who signs him- 
self— what is it now? Let me see ’’—flirting over the let- 
ter, and glancing at the last page. “Ah, yes, Herndon — 
that’s it — Robert Herndon.” 

“Robert Herndon!” 

My lady had reached forth her hand to take the letter, 
but as she pronounced that name the outstretched mem- 
ber fell, she started back a step, and looked at Lord Glan- 
dore wit’n wide, startled eyes. 

“Yes, Robert Herndon!” repeated the old earl. “ But 
the name seems to affect you. Do you know this fellow. 
Lady Blanche?” 

“Yes— no! — that is — I— I have heard of him,” stam- 
mered her ladyship, confusedly. “ He is an American 
artist, who has just painted a picture which has created a 
positive furor in Paris, and— and what does he say of Inez, 
Lord Glandore?” 

“ Here is the letter; take it and read for yourself,” he 
answered, as he put the letter into her hands. “I an- 
swered it as soon as received, and that answer you shall 
read before it goes into the mail-bag.” 

My lady made no reply. With bated breath and dilated 
eyes, she was already reading the letter, and scarcely 
heard his final words. 

From the beginning to the end, omitting not one word, 
she read Robert Herndon’s inquiry; and when at length 
she finished its perusal, her lips were tightly compressed 


312 


THE KING’S DAUGHTERS. 


ami her whole face so ghastly, that Lord Glandore was 
startled by its unearthly expression. 

“ I do not think that Mr. Robert Herndon ever wrote 
this letter, Lord Glandore!” she gasped, in a voice that 
would waver and sound strained and unnatui-al in spite of 
her. “ In fact, I may say, tliat I am sure he did not, for 
this writing is not his. I— I have seen letters from him 
often, and— and the chirography was not in the least like 
this. It is a forgery — a cruel hoax, I fear — perpetrated by 
some malicious practical joker, and you have done well 
not to show it to Lord Keith, nor yet to mention it to Inez. 
But you will answer it, of course, and answer it so secret- 
ly that ” 

“ I have answered it,” interrupted the earl; “ the reply 
is in the library. “Would you like to see it. Lady 
Blanche.” 

“Yes,” she answered, in a dull, lifeless voice. “Yes, I 
should like to see it very much indeed.” 

“Wait a moment and I’ll fetch it then,” returned the 
earl, but before he could put the project into execution, 
my lady’s quick wits had planned a scheme, and she set 
about perfecting it. 

“ No, let me go for it!” she said. “ It must be torture 
for you to walk with that gouty foot, and I am free from 
pain. Tell me where the letter is and I will fetch it to you. 
Lord Glandore.” 

“ It is in one of the pigeon holes of my desk — here are 
the keys, Lady Blanche. But really this is asking too 
much and ” 

“ It isn’t the slightest bit of trouble, and it will save 
you pain. Sit where you are and I will return presently,” 
she laughed, as she took the keys from his hand and flut- 
tered out of the room ; but once in the hallway all her 
forced merriment dropped away from her like a discarded 
mantle. 

“ This letter— I must have this letter,” she muttered, 
glancing down at Robert Herndon’s missive which she 
still held. “ I must pei’suade the earl to keep its existence 

a secret from everybody but ourselves, and then My 

Heaven — my Heaven ! can fate have thrown Inez Cathe- 
ron into that artist’s path? Can it be possible that slie has 
escaped from the madliouse, and that the rascally keeper 
has refrained from notifying us of it in order to get all the 
money he can before Ave discover that she has slipped out 
of his clutches? Escaped? Oh, impossible when, as father 
told me, she was so closely guarded. 

“ No— no, Inez has not escaped! Had she done so, she 
Avould have found means to come here, not to wander to 
the home of an insane artist Avho was a stranger to her. 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


213 


and ask him to write to Lord Glandore and inquire what 
had become of her. I have been frightened by a mere ac- 
cident — startled over something which cannot harm me, 
and now, if I only play my cards well, the game is in my 
hands!” 

She had by this time entered the library, and reached 
the earl’s desk, and having unlocked it, she proceeded — 
not to look for Lord Glandore’s letter, but for a sheet of 
blank paper which might correspond in appearance with 
the missive she held in her hand. 

She had little difficulty in finding one; then, having 
folded it to the proper size, she slid it into the envelope 
addressed by Robert Herndon, secreted his letter in the 
folds of her gown, and then proceeded to search for Lord 
Glandore’s reply. 

That, too, was soon found, and, having paused a mo- 
ment to restore to order the papers which she had dis- 
arranged, she locked the desk and went back to the old 
earl. 

“Read it, my dear Lady Blanche — read it. The envel- 
ope is still unsealed !” exclaimed his lordship, as she gave 
the letter into his hands, and, obeying the injunction, my 
lady drew forth the written sheet, and cast her eyes over 
the words which afterward caused Inez Catheron so much 
misery. 

“It is a sensible reply — sensibly written, Lord Glan- 
dore,” she smiled, as she restored it to the envelope and 
gave it back to him. “However far this audacious, 
practical joker may have meant to carry this hoax, I 
fancy he will desist when he receives a reply which must 
certainly prove to him that further endeavors will not be 
noticed.” 

“ What makes you think that it is the work of a practi- 
cal joker. Lady Blanche?” 

“Because, as I have told you, the letter is a forgery, and 
Robert Herndon never wrote it!” responded her ladyship, 
dropping her eyes and making a very passable show of 
modest confusion. “Will ynu promise to keep a secret, if 
I tell you something. Lord Glandore? You remarked how 
much I was affected by the mention of Mr. Herndon’s 
name, and— and you have also heard me say that I know 
enough of his writing to detect the forgery of this letter-- 
and shall I leave you to guess the rest, or must I tell it 
plainly? I am betrothed to Mr. Herndon, Lord Glandore, 
and — you will keep the secret, I am sure— a woman may 
reasonably be supposed to know something of the hand- 
writing of the man she has promised to marry.” 

“Bless my stars! what an astonishing surprise!” ex- 
ploded the old man. “Dear Lady Blanche, allow me to 


2l4 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


congratulate you, and to envy the happy man. What’s 
that? Keep it a secret? Most assuredly, I promise not to 
tell another living soul. As you say, the thing must be a 
hoax, and I am glad that I mentioned it to you.” 

‘‘ Such a hoax that we can afford to destroy the joker’s 
plans and dismiss him this way!” exclaimed her lady- 
ship, as she tore the envelope containing the blank sheet 
of paper and tossed both pieces into the fire. “That is 
tlie first and last communication we shall ever receive 
from that party, I imagine, for your reply will put a 
damper upon his ardor. But if I were in your place. 
Lord Glandore, I shouldn’t mention the affair at all. In 
the fii’st place, it Avould only distress dear Inez; in the 
second, it might make Lord Keith furiously angry ; and 
in the third, I should have to confess anew how I detect- 
ed the forgery, and that would involve a disclosure of my 
betrothal to Mr. Herndon, before I wish to have it known. 
The better plan will be to keep the matter a secret be- 
tween ourselves. It hurts no one by keepinng silent, and 
to speak would only cause an unnecessary annoyance to 
Inez and Lord Keith.” 

” Quite right, my dear Lady Blanche— so it would!” re- 
turned his lordship. “I’ll just drop this letter into the 
mail-bag, and then say no more about the occurence. 
WeTl be mutual secret-holders, my dear. I’ll guard 
yours and you’ll keep mine.” 

“To the death!” responded Lady Blanche, striking a 
mock tragic attitude, and speaking in a melo dramatic 
voice; then breaking into a babble of silvery laughter, 
she bade him good -night, waved him adieu with her tiny, 
jeweled hand, and fluttered out of the room. 

“A gem of a woman— a very Kohinoor of a woman!” 
exploded, admiringly, the old earl, as he rang for his 
valet to assist him in retiring. “Egad! but that Hern- 
don is to be envied— the lucky dog!” 

But could my lord have stepped outside and glanced up- 
stairs a moment after he made that assertion, what a 
change would have come over the spirit of his dream! 
For there on the first landing stood my lady, with Robert 
Henidon’s letter in her hand, her eyes turned toward Lord 
Keith’s door, and her face aflame with the passion of an 
incarnate demon. 

“ My vengeance is sure at last, Keith!” she said through 
her shut teeth. “I have the means to prove to you that 
you are a deceived man — the means to prove tliat Lord 
Glandore himself was a party to the deception, and not my 
hand but Gypsy Jock’s shall strike the blow which shat- 
ters all your peace. A heart for a heart, and a life for a 
life, my lord. It was a bad blunder when you made an 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 315 

enemy of Mark Talford's daughter and changed her love 
to hate. ” 

For one moment silence followed her going; then the 
soft clicking of her door told that she had passed into her 
own room, and tlien: 

Something came out of the shadow where the wing pas- 
sage merged into the main hall — something garbed, like 
herself, in the raiment of a woman — something that moved 
and walked as noiselessly as she— came and advanced to 
the head of the staircase where the light from the newel- 
branch struck up and touched her ghastly drawn face, 
and so revealed the features of Martha Boggs. 

‘•Mark Talford’s daughter!” she repeated thrice, in a 
startled whisper, sO faint with terror that it scarcely 
broke the silence. ‘ ‘ I allers said as her face looked like 
some other as I’d seen; and now I know — now I know! 
She’s Hulda Talford’s granddaughter growed up — Hulda 
Talford as stole and killed tlje — the other one what I prom- 
ised Lady. Morford never to say nuthin’ about. It’s Mag- 
gie Talford, and she’s here to "finish the work as her ma 
and her grandmother begun. Oh, my lork, my lork ! what 
am I to do? I — I daresn’t speak— I daresn’t tell nobody 

nuthin’ about the tiro babbies, but I’ll w^atch that 

woman as long as she stays in this house, and afore she 
shall harm my sweet lamb. I’ll — I’ll crawl on her in the 
dark and ‘ chuck ’ her doAvn the stairs. Maggie Talford’s 
darter— Maggie Talford’s darter at Gland ore Court! My 
head, my heeid! how it do be spinniu’ ’round.” 


CHAPTER XLYII. 

MY LORD AND MY LADY. 

In some respects my lady’s Avish Avas gratified, for Avhen 
the morrow came. Zillah- to Avhose nervous system that 
memorable interview had been a dreadful shock — was 
so prostrated that Lord Keith deemed it advisable to call 
in a doctor, Avho at once prescribed perfect rest and quiet, 
and forbade his patient leaving her bed for several days. 

” It is nothing very serious, your lordship,” he said, in 
ansAver to Lord Keith’s eager inquiry regarding the cause 
of his Avife’s sudden and singular illness. ‘‘ I fancy that 
something must have shocked or troubled her, and in the 
delicate condition of her health, it is only natural that she 
should succumb to the strain. The best remedy is rest for 
the body and quiet for the mind. Humor her if she be- 
comes at all fanciful, and I have no doubt that she Avill 
soon be herself again.” 

But here, as in many other instances, medical opinion 
Avas at fault; for, far from improving, Zillah seemed to be 


216 


THE KINHS DAUGHTERS. 


growing weaker day by day; she took to brooding over 
her sorrowful position, and regretting so sincerely her 
part in the scheme against Inez Catheron, that she fell 
an easy prey to a nervous fever which confined her to her 
room for several weeks. 

So that my lady, as you see, had her wish gratified in 
that respect. 

In obedience to the letter she had dispatched him upon 
her return to Glandore Court, Marco had hastened to 
bring Gypsy Jock to Leith— ostensibly to aid him in some 
work connected witli the Eomany tribes— and both were 
now quartered at an out-of-the-way tavern, awaiting such 
time as Zillah should be able to leave her chamber, and 
my lady give the signal for action. 

It was not until the second day in December that the 
former event came to pass and Zillah, looking as pale as 
a lily, came down for the first time since her return to 
Glandore Court, and took hei* place at the family table, 
and it was not until three days later, that the latter oc- 
curred, and my lady after long waiting gave the signal 
to strike. 

Stealing out in the dim light of the early morning, she 
had met her father under the oaks by the east wicket 
Avhere Inez Catlieron had been trapped, and there con- 
cocted her plans to ruin Inez Catheron’s sister. 

“I shall never confess anything in regard to their rela- 
tionship,” she had said in answer to Marco’s inquiry, “I 
shall simply crush Lord Keith with the belief that Zillah 
is false to him, then, after I have separated them, I shall 
quietly disappear, send him a letter, telling him that the 
real Inez Catheron Avas killed by an accident, that I sub- 
stituted a gypsy in her place and that she Avas, in addition 
to being an unfaithful Avife, the daughter of vagabonds 
and loAver by far than any bar- maid in the country. Ah! 
it Avill be a noble revenge, Avill it not, father? You must 
not forget the time and the place, and you must be near 
to drag Jock away as soon as he makes the discovery. 
Remember! the rear door of the conservatory at nine 
o’clock to-night.” 

‘‘I Avill remember,” Marco had answered, and then, 
Avith a few final Avords of advice, my lady had stolen 
back to the house, and left him to return to the tavern, 
Avhere Gypsy Jock --poor, unsuspecting tool of the schem- 
ers !— still slept in his little room under the moldy eaves. 
***** 

At six o’clock that night the Avhole party assembled in 
the drawing-room, for the purpose of enjoying a chat 
Avhile Avaiting for dinner to be announced, and, although 
Lady Blanche Avas in the best of spirits, and Zillah— Avho 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


217 


had begun to believe that her foe was disarmed, since she 
showed no inclination to battle with her — appeared calmer 
and more like herself than at any time since her returii 
home, it was yet noticeable that she never, by any chance, 
addressed her remarks to Lady Blanche, and that Lady 
Blanche “froze,” and became stiff and sedate, whenever 
she was forced to come in contact with either Lord Glan- 
dore or his granddaughter. 

But what annoyed and mystified Lord Keith more than 
aught else was the fact that several times, upon glancing 
up, he found her ladyship’s eyes fixed upon him with an 
unmistakable expression of pity. 

“ Confound the woman ! what the deuce is she pitying 
me for?” muttered his lordship, with more . earnestness 
than grammar, after this state of affairs had been in force 
for something like a couple of hours. “I’ll make it my 
business to ask her the meaning of all this as soon as I get 
an opportunity.” 

But my lady didn’t mean that he should have an oppor- 
tunity until it suited her, for she engaged herself in close 
conversation with Lady Elsdale until she saw by the clock 
that it wanted but a quarter of nine, then, knowing by 
woman’s unerring instinct, that his lordship was on thorns 
to speak with her, and would be sure to follow if she left 
the room, she excused herself upon the pretext of getting 
a shawl, and walked out into the corridoi'. 

She had scarcely gone a dozen steps before Lord Keith 
was at her side, 

“Pardon me. Lady Blanche,” he said, a trifle stiffly, 
“ but will you accord me the pi’ivilege of a few moments’ 
private conversation? The library is convenient, and I 
Avill not detain you long.” 

My lady’s only response was to gravely bow her head 
and pass into the apartment designated, and following her, 
his lordship closed the door and tuimed up the light. 

“I wish to ask you,” he began at once, “what has 

caused the rupture between you and Inez and No! do 

not deny its existence, I pray you, for it is only too evi- 
dent that my wife and my friend have had a falling out of 
some sort. Not that alone, but that some shadow has 
come between you and Lord Glandore, for your conduct 
toward him to-night has been marked by the strangest 
restraint, and toward me by a resemblance of— pity! I 
will be frank with you. Lady Blanche, and tell you that I 
am not a man who cares to be pitied under any circum- 
stances, and still less when there is no apparent cause for 
it. Will you tell me, then, the key to your singular con- 
duct, and relieve me from this surprise and distress?” 

My lady lifted her eyes slowly— lifted them with such a 


21S 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


look of pity and sorrow that he felt the blood mount to his 
face— then, in a twinkling, she seemed to freeze, and with 
a dignified bow turned toward the door. 

“I will relieve you of the distress — j^es. Lord Keith,” 
she said, “but notin the way you wi.sh. Whatever else 
I may do, I shall not turn traitress to a woman I once re- 
spected.” (Oh, the cunning stab in that bit of emphasis.) 
“Nor shall I repay your generous friendship to me by 
pui'suing a subject which can only give you pain. I will 
relieve the distress by removing the cause. Lord Keith, as 
I had already resolved to do.” 

“ Which means ” 

“ That I shall take my departure from Glandore Court 
within the next ten days — sooner if I am fortunate enough 
to arrange with my agent to pi'ocuro me a house which I 
can rent at once, and where I can establish for myself a 
temporary home.” 

“But you accepted an invitation to stay here for one 
year. Lady Blanche, and now ” 

“Stay here!” interrupted her ladyship, exploding with 
appai-ent indignation. “Do you think I could do it after 
what I discovered to-day? Do you think I could stay 
here and see my best, my truest friend hourly duped by 
those he trusted? Do you think I could remain here and 
respect these people who have wrought your dishonor 

and Oh, what have I said?” — in a voice of sudden 

agony and remorse. “Forget it, my lord, forget it and 
let me go!” 

Her hand reached out toward the knob of the door, 
but with two swift strides, my lord came between her 
and it, and his face— paler than any living face she had 
ever seen— looked into hers, with a stare that made her 
heart beat fast. 

“You cannot go until you explain that remark!” he 
said, hoarsely. “For God’s sake, what manner of woman 
are you, after all? T thought you my friend— /ier friend 
— and now you speak of her home— my wife’s home— as a 
place where her husband is being dishonored! I will not 
suffer you to sheath your dagger in velvet— you shall stab 
me with the bare steel, if you stab at all. Lady Hay, and 
you shall explain to me, noiv and here, the nature of your 
quarrel with Lady Keith — a quarrel which has made you 
vindictive enough to aim at her the deadliest insult the 
head can conceive or the lips utter!” 

“Oh, my lord, my lord!” — with a sorrowful reproach 
in voice and eyes. “Is it possible that you can suspect 
me of sucli baseness as that?” 

“ It is the duty of every man to suspect the being who 
reviles his wife and impeaches her honor as you have 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


219 


done!” he answered frigidh''. “Yon call yourself my 
friend, forgetting that we two are one, forgetting that in 
me, you speak to her, in her, you slander me — arraign 
yourself before the husband and expect that he will listen 
and believe you when you attack the honor of his wife! 
If you have no shame for yourself, have shame for me, 
in that I appear so low in yo\ir eyes that you could believe 
I would listen to your slanders and give credence to your 
treacherous lies!” 

“ Lies!” My lady drew herself up with an assumption 
of imperial dignity. “My lord, you forget yourself.” 

“Perhaps!” he answered coldI3^ “It is only natural 
when I remember her and listen to yon !” 

“One moment,” interrupted my ladj^, seeing that she 
could manage him better by returning to the “sweet hu- 
milit}^ dodge.” “ One moment, my lord. Let us remem- 
ber that I’m a woman, and you a man, and no man who 
deserves the title will insult a woman and accuse her of 
such infamy as you have laid at her door, with no further 
warrant of the unjust act, than that she conies to him as 
a friend with proof oi what she saj’s!” 

“ Proof !” exclaimed his lordship indignantly. “Proof 
of my wife’s baseness. Lady Ha^’?” 

“Have I said thatV' — meekly — “have I as yet made 
any cliarge against herf Answer me honestly. Lord Keith 
— have I uttered one word against your wife?” 

“ N-no!” he stammered, flushing and then paling again. 
“ No, jmu have not done that, but ” 

“ But you have insulted me, reviled me, accused me of 
all infamy — not knowing— not caring to hear that this day 
I have discovered the pit into which you have fallen. You 
have placed rrie in an unenviable position, my lord, for you 
have forced me to clear myself at the expense of those I 
would save. If I have done a wrong thing in reading a 
letter never meant for me, at least believe that I was hon- 
orable enough to prefer leaving this house without divulg- 
ing its contents, nor would I have dreamed of doing so had 
not 3’ou forced the step upon me by jmur uncharitable I’e- 
marks. My lord, I am your friend, and if I prove it I 
must ask in return that you give me a friend’s pledge to 
a friend, and whatever comes of this misei'able expose, re- 
frain fi’om mentioning my name in connection Avith it — I 
came here respecting Miss Catheron and honoring her 
grandfather; if I leave, condemning Lord Glandore for 
sacrificing my friend, jmu must believe that I have just 
cause for it, for the proof of my honesty is in my hands at 
this moment. 

“ By accident to-day I found this letter— lying crumpled 
in a ball at the end of the hallway ” — taking it from her 


220 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


bosom and smoothing it out as she spoke. “ Perhaps you 
will condemn me for reading it— I own that it was wrong 
— but what I saw in the first glance tempted me to read it 
to the end as it will, perhaps, tempt you in turn. But be- 
fore I give it you, my loi'd, answer me one question. Has 
Lord Glandoi-e ever told you that the man wfiio painted 
‘ La Fleur de Foret ’ ” 

“You mean Robert Herndon, the American artist?” 

“Yes, the insane painter who reproduced your wife’s 
face as perfectly as though she sat as his model,” 
i-eturned her ladyship. “Has Lord Glandore ever 
told you that that man wrote him a letter, inquiring 
about your wife's present -whereabouts, and hinting that 
thei'e was some mysterious affair in which her name was 
mixed?” 

“Never!” returned his lordship, with increasing agi- 
tation. 

“It would seem strange to you, would it not, if he 
received such a letter from the man who painted that 
remarkable picture, and never mentioned the fact to you? 
There could be no reason for his silence upon such an 
important point to you, the party most interested; it 
would look suspicious if such inquiry had been made five 
weeks ago, and not a Avord of the fact mentioned to the 
husband of the woman whose name was concerned with 
the affair. If there were nothing back of it save the 
driveling of an insane artist there could be no reason for 

concealment, and to keep it secret suggests What? 

My lord, judge for yourself. There is the letter I found 
this morning. Read it, and when you have heard my 
story, ask yourself if I have not been shamefully duped, 
and that the Earl of Glandore is a party to the deception 
practiced upon you?” 

Speaking, she put the stolen letter into his hand, and, 
turning the key in the door, stood and watched him while 
he read. 


CHAPTER XLYHI. 

“A THREAD OF CANDOR IN A WEB OF LIES.” 

For at least a minute there was absolute silence, then 
his lordship lifted his pale face and looked at her. 

“ I see no evidence of guilt in this,” he said. “ Herndon 
is insane, as I have already told you. He has doubtless 
heard from somebody that Lady Keith resembles his 
painting, and the result is the figment of his diseased 
brain. There is nothing of a condemnatory character in 
this letter. Lady Blanche.” 

“ True,” she ansAvei’ed; “ and that fact makes it all the 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


221 


more remarkable that Lord Glandore should have re- 
frained from mentioning it to you, unless there was some- 
thing to be covered up — something to which this letter 
would have given a clew. So innocent a thing would not 
have been hidden so closely unless the gypsy’s story is 
true.” 

“The gypsy’s story!” My lord’s face blanched as he 
spoke, and he moistened his dry lips with the tip of his 
tongue. “ What do you mean, Lady Blanche? What has 
any gypsy to do with this affair? For God’s sake! wliat 
are you driving at? Do you know something which has 
any bearing upon this affair? You say you are my friend 
— then prove it by speaking out before you drive me to 
distraction by beating about the bush in this uncertain 
way!” 

My lady walked forward and gently laid her hand upon 
his arm. 

“My lord,” she said, in a trembling voice — “my lord, 
the man who addressed Inez at the opera-house that night 
is here — in Leith— here searching for hei*, and I have seen 
him !” 

His lordship started, but made no reply. 

“Yes, I have seen him!” continued Lady Blanche. 
“But up to this day I have never believed that his words 
held one grain of truth, although tlie words Inez uttered 
in her sleep were indeed strange. It was after we had re- 
turned from the Paris salon, and while j’ou had gone to 
search for Robert Herndon, that she dropped asleep — 
worn out, no doubt, by the exciting experience at the 
salon; and having nothing else to occupy my mind, I took 
up a book and .sat near her to read. She was very rest- 
less, and began to murmur in her sleep. I took no notice 
of it ; but presently she cried out in a voice of agony and 
shame : 

“ ‘Jock! Jock! don’t betray mo! I did love you in those 
days, but I couldn’t help it if I oiitlived it and found a 
greater love. Don’t betray me— for God’s sake don’t be- 
tray me, and I’ll make you rich — rich!’ 

“I awakened her at once, and told her what she had 
said. She laughed it off, saying that the picture had im- 
pressed itself upon her mind, and she had been dreaming 
of g.ypsies. 

“I thought no more about it until that affair at the 
opei'a, and you remember that I told you then that it 
was odd that the man who addressed her should be a 
gypsy and so like the man who stood beside the girl in 
the picture. Still, I had no thought that it was anything 
more than a mere coincidence, but when I mentioned the 
affair to Inez— I did that when we were on shipboard. 


223 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


and while j'ou had gone for her rugs and steamer-chair, 
Lord Keith-^she seemed to grow angry at my words, told 
me ‘that she hated people who were eternally prying,’ 
and from that moment began to treat me coolly— even 
calling me Lady Blanche whenever she was forced to ad- 
dress me. 

“ Five weeks ago we entered this house, and one morn- 
ing, two days a^er our arrival, when I went out to take 
a stroll before breakfast, upon reaching the cross roads I 
found myself standing face to face wdth the gypsy flower- 
vender who created the disturbance at the Paris opera- 
house. 

“ He recognized me inaii instant, and in a wild, excited 
way began to question me regarding Inez. I told him 
that I knew nothing about her whereabouts— indeed, that 
I was not one of your party, but that my carriage had 
failed to come to take me home from the opera, and you, 
taking pity upon my embarrassing position, had offered 
to shai*e yours with me and drop me at my own abode. 
Upon this he launched forth into his terrible story, and 
declared that she had been — well, not exactly his wife, 
but his companion in their old gypsy days. Told me that 
she was not a gypsj'’ by birth, but had become one from 
choice, and for two years had led a double life of the most 
remarkable description. 

“He said he had met her while she was at school in 
Paris, where she was known to be a great heiress, that 
she had become fascinated with him and, under promise 
that he would not try to discover her real identity nor 
question her goings and comings, fled with him to Wales 
and cast her lot with the gypsies, supplying them with 
sums of money to keep the secret of her presence among 
them, and to escape detection always covering her face 
with a black velvet mask.” 

My lord shut his teeth with an audible click, and his 
nails scratched the lacquered back of the chair upon 
which he leaned. 

“The liar! if I could but have heard him say it,” he 
uttered, in a dull, hoarse voice. “ He has stolen the idea 

from ‘La Fleur de Foret,’ and Go on— go on! Let 

me hoar this out.” 

“He said,” resumed my lady, “ that from time to time 
she disappeared, and no one questioned her absence, for 
she always came back again and resumed her vagabond 
life. But one day she disappeared never to return. An 
elderly man with gray' beard and hair was seen to accost 
her in the woods. She seemed terrified by the meeting, 
but bade the Eomanies who flocked to her assistance to 
leave her alone with the stranger, as she wished to speak 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


22Ji 


to him. An angry scene ensued — a scene of which they 
could hear nothing, although by the wrathful gestures of 
the man it was evident that he was enraged at his com- 
panion — but his wrath seemed to cool down after a time, 
he and his companion strolled off into the woods, and that 
was the last the gypsies ever saw of the beautiful creat- 
ure who was known to them only by the Romany name of 
Zillah. 

“This fellow, Jock— that was what he called himself, 
my lord — swore, however, that when he spoke to Lady 
Keith at the door of the opera-house, he spoke to and rec- 
ognized that girl again, and that he would never rest until 
he found her. She had deserted him, he said, without a 
hint or warning — deserted him and their little child ; and 
if ” 

“The liar — the liar! I will find him and kill him!” 
broke in Lord Keith with an angry roar. “ How dare he 
make this hideous chai’ge against my wife? How dare he? 
I say, when there is neither truth in heaven nor a lie in 
hell black enough to condemn her of the fearful charge, 

nor proof existing which ” 

“There is a proof, he says, my lord!” interrupted Lady 
Blanche, hastily, “According to this gypsy’s story the 
day their child was born he placed a talisman around her 
neck, and that talisman if found would pi’ove the truth 
of his charge,” 

“ A talisman?” 

“Yes, Lord Keith, a talisman which bore the inscrip- 
tion, ‘ Opollis sulla glut, ’ meaning in the gypsy tongue, 

‘ Born of the blood of angels,’ and that talisman ” 

My lord leaped forward suddenly, and his hand shut 
suddenly upon her wrist, 

“What was it?” he cried out in a strident voice, 
“Answer me, for God’s sake. What was this talisman 
like?” 

“ According to the gypsy’s story it was a small silver 

star which slie wore upon ” 

But the last of the sentence fell upon deaf ears, 

“ A silver star!— my God, a silver star!” panted Lord 
Keith, as he reeled back and dropped heavily into a chair. 
“ A silver star engraved with a strange inscription, and 
she— she dropped it that night in the Oak Walk— dropped 
it and I found and gave it back to her. Oh, my God!— 
my God ! can all these things be chance, or is she really— 
that ?” 


S24 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


CHAPTER XLIX. 

“Tll not believe but desdemona’s honest.” 

My lady made no response. She saw by the way he 
leaned forward in his seat and buried his face in his 
hands that this last blow had struck home, that he was 
completely overwhelmed by her infamous lies — lies which 
her latest calumny, in regard to the silver star, seemed 
to stamp with the sign and seal of a positive truth — and, 
bending her head, as though she too shared his misery 
and despair, she silently eyed him from beneath her thick, 
dark lashes. 

For several seconds nothing disturbed the stillness of the 
room but the monotonous ticking of the clock, and the 
dull, labored breathing of the stricken man; then, with 
one shuddering, indrawn breath. Lord Keith lifted his 
haggard eyes, and looked up into the face of his torturer. 

If this be true,” he said, slowly, “ then I shall lose my 
faith in women, and believe, with others, that Heaven is 
sometimes cruel enough to put the face of an angel on the 
shoulders of a fiend! But, oh, it cant be true — it can’t, it 
can’t 1” 

Then he groaned and dropped his face into his palms 
again, and rocked backward and forward in the firelight, 
as though his misery was too great for words. 

My lady moved forward slowly and dropped one soft, 
white paw upon his bowed head. 

“ Don’t hate me for telling you all this, my lord!” she 
softly said. “Remember that you forced me to it— re- 
member that I would have spared you had you only let 
me do so. Lord Keith, but you were as merciless to your- 
self as you were uncharitable to me, and now that jmu 
have compelled me to clear my own honor at the expense 
of yours ’ ’ 

Something like a sob seemed to break her voice ; she paused 
a moment, as though overcome by emotion, clapped both 
liands over her face, with a little cry of seeming anguish, 
and then, in a tone of passionate grief: 

“Oh, my lord! my lord!” she cried out brokenly, “I 
wish I had died before I had to tell you this!” 

“So do I!” he answered bitterly. * “ I wish that either 
you or I were dead and underground before this horror 
found its way to my cars. Thei’e are some things worse 
than death, and this is one of them! No! don’t speak to 
me for a moment— for God’s sake don’t, I want to think 
this thing out!” 

Then, leaning his forehead upon the edge of the library 
table, he folded his arms above his head and sat there, 
speechless, moveless, dead still for many moments. 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. ' 


225 


So long he held that position, and so utterly lifeless it ap- 
peared, my lady began to wonder if he had not swooned, 
and was upon the point of touching him to ascertain, when 
he shivered suddenly, sat up with a sort of strangled cry, 
and turned his face toward hers. 

“ I don’t believe this thing — I can't!" he said, in a bit- 
ter. strident voice — a voice that belied his words. “Men 
have been done to death upon circumstantial evidence be- 
fore now, and I will not believe her guilty without 
stronger proof than this^ — the mere braggadocio of a low- 
lived ruffian Avhose word would not carry weight in any 
court in the kingdom. I have been thinking it over, and 
I tell you I won’t believe it — I can’t!” 

My lady heaved a deep, tremulous sigh, and glanced at 
the leaping fire. 

“Ido not blame you for your fidelity,” she said, fight- 
ing hard to conceal her chagrin at his stubbornness. 
“Like you, I, too, found it hard to believe that such base- 
ness could possibly be connected with such angelic beauty 
and seeming innocence. To believe Inez guilty of such in- 
famies is almost too much to ask of any one who knows 

her, and yet Oh, my lord ! my lord ! what are we to 

say to all this string of evidence? What are we to say to 
tills last, most dreadful proof of all — the silver star which 
the gypsy said would convict her?” 

“I don’t know,” answered his lordship in a hushed 
voice, a strangely unnatural voice. “Everything seems 
strange and dark to me at present. I don’t know what to 
doubt and what to believe. I have been wondering if, 
after all, you really are my friend. Are you?” 

“My lord!” — her ladysliip glanced up sharply, met for 
the first time the steady glance of those riveted eyes, and 
paled under their clear, cold fire — paled until her own 
pretty, treacherous face was as white as his. “My loi-d, 
I — I don’t understand you !” 

“ I don’t understand myself,” he answered in that same 
cold, dispassionate voice. “I am like a shipwrecked 
mariner adrift in the darkness. I cannot tell in Avhich 
way to steer for the land, and it is only natural, perhaps, 
that I should bear down upon the first signal light I see. 
You are unwilling you say to believe her a degraded 
woman; are you then willing to express to her in my 
presence that' very creditable sentiment? You shrink 
from believing it possible that she could be as base a 
wretch as this gypsy scoundrel proclaims her— are you 
then willing to say to her, in my hearing, that you have 
heard she had a lover among the people she loathes? Ah! 
you shrink, and grow pale, my lady ! It is a trick of the 
serpents to bite and crawl away ! You are afraid to face 


226 


• THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


the woman you accuse; you are afraid to say openly be* 
fore her what you have told under the promise of secrecy 
to her husband. But that only will I take as proof of 
your truth; and if you would clear yourself in my eyes, 
that is the only way to do it. 

“Is it? Will you accept it as proof of my honesty, Lord 
Keith?” responded my lady, coming a step forward, and 
holding out both hands with a pretty, innocent trick like 
the artless act of an appealing child. “If I do what you 
ask of me, will you believe — as Heaven already knows — 
that you have misjudged and condemned me most un- 
justly, Lord Keith? If so I accept the terms and promise 
to do what you desire.” 

His lordship’s face flushed, then paled again, and the 
hopeful look, .which, but a few moments before had 
lighted it, vanished and left it haggard and drawn 
again. 

He had not believed that she would accept the proposi- 
tion, but now — now her willingness seemed a confirmation 
of his darkest fears, and he almost wished that he had not 
asked her to stand this test. 

“Yes, I will believe you then,” he said. “No matter 
whether she prove innocent or guilty of the charges 
brought against her, I will believe that you at least have 
told the truth, and told it as a friend !” 

“Then I accept the proposition,” returned her ladyship, 
with a look of martyred innocence, “ but remember, what- 
ever comes of this rash step, you have forced me to it 
against my will. Lord Keith. I will tell to Inez all that I 
have told you, and you shall hear and see how she takes 
the knews. I would not, however — lest she should event- 
ually" clear henself of these cruel charges— have her believe 
that I have entered into a conspiracy with you, or done 
aught to lower her in your eyes, and for that reason I beg 
you to aid me in practicing a little deception upon her. 

“ Go to her and ask her to favor you with an interview 
in the conservatory. Invent any pretext you like, to 
have her go there and await your coming; and two min- 
utes after she has complied with the request, steal back 
and secrete yourself amongst the flowers, and wait until 
I come forward and speak to her.” 

A deep ridge gathered between Lord Keith’s brows, and 
a dull red flush swept suddenly over his face. 

“You wish me to play the sneak and spy upon her?” 
he said, indignantly. “You wish me to act like a cow- 
ard and a cur, and make myself only more despicable in 
her eyes than I should be in my own? I do not doubt my 
wife. Lady Hay. I have no reason to skulk about in this 
underhand way, and my place when she meets you is by 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 227 

her side, not prowling in the background to listen and 
to spy!” 

“And do you think she will talk to me if you are 
there?” returned her ladyship. 

“ J do not for a moment doubt but what she will clear 
herself and explain away all these charges; but if there 
should be even the semblance of a truth in them, do you 
think that she will confess it in your presence? Besides, 
■when all this mystery is cleared up, would you not 
rather have your wife kept in ignorance of the fact that 
you compelled her friend to lay a trap for her in self- 
defense than have her learn that you doubted her even 
for an instant? Then, too, you can slip away when the 
interview is over, and Inez need never suspect that you 
overheard it. Oh, my lord ! I am so truly your friend 
that I wish to save you from hating youx*self and being 
despised by her. It is better that you should act in this 
way — better for you, for her — for me — and I beg of you do 
nothing now which you will bitterly regret in the days to 
come.” 

“Perhaps you are right,” returned his lordship, husk- 
ily. “ I do not fancy the role of eavesdropper, but any- 
thing is better than that she should believe I doubted her 
honor and conspired with you to ti-ap her. It shall be as 
3"Ou say, then, Lady Blanche. But if the miserable truth 
ever comes to light I depend upon you— you who profess 
to bo my friend — to exonei'ate me in this affair, and to 
assure my wife that my faith in her never wavered, and 
it was for your sake only— for the sake of proving you 
what you claim to be — that I consented to do this misei’- 
able thing.” 

“You can depend upon me to do that—yes!” responded 
her ladyship; and walking sti-aight to the door, Lord 
Keith unlocked it and laid his hand upon the knob. 

“ I will go toiler now and bid her I’etire to the con- 
servatory and await mj’- coming,” he said. “But under 
stand this. Lady Blanche: it is only the certainty that 
she will refute these charges, and give positive proof of 
their falseness— only that, and the desire to see you vindi- 
cated — Avhich makes this contemptible act excusable to 
me. If I doubted your sincerity, at the least, my faith 
in her has never wavered, and never will!” 

Then turning abruptly he opened the door and closed 
it, and was gone. 

“Poor fool! poor fool! your faith is wavering now!" 
exclaimed my lady, with a soft, suppressed laugh as he 
stalked out and vanished. “ It is wavering now, and it 
will fall— a rxtm— before another hour passes over your 


22H 


THE KINHS DAUGHTERS. 


head. Keith, I have you on the hip at last, and to-night 
will see my score wiped out in tears of blood !” 

She glanced at the clock as she ceased speaking, saw 
that it pointed five minutes after nine, and with the fleet, 
soundless movement of a cat crossed the room and opened 
the door. 

“ It is past the hour,” she said, with a soft laugh. “ past 
the hour, and Jock and my father are already in the 
grounds. Only on a poaching visit, you know, my dear 
Lord Keith; they only come to bag a rabbit from the 
Glandore warren, and it will be quite accidental if my es- 
teemed papa manages to have his unsuspecting companion 
in the neighborhood of the conservatory when the lights 
are turned iip !" Misery for misery, and heart for heart, 
Keith. I have waited long, but my hour has come at 
last!” 

Then, fiuttering onward through the semi- darkened 
halls, she made her way to the passage which led to the 
conservatory, and, like a silent serpent scenting afar the 
sleeping dove, glided away to consummate the work of its 
destruction. 


CHAPTER L. 

AT NO. 27 RUE DES ANGES. 

“But, Mrs. Herndon ” 

“‘But — no buts,’ my dear. The doctor’s orders were 
that you were to be kept perfectly quiet for three days, 
and then, if you are a good girl ” — this Avith a playful 
pinch of the Avan, Avhite cheek Avhich rested upon the cool, 
sweet-smelling pillows— “ you are to get up and be dressed ; 
and, as those three days AA^on’t expire until to-morrow 
morning puts in an appearance, you will hav^e to lie there 
and keep perfectly still, for I sha’n’t answer another 
single question, no matter hoAv you plead ! You are doing 
so nicely that I’m not going to risk a relapse and another 
three weeks’ sickness by satisfying your curiosity, my 
dear !” 

‘•Three Aveeks!” exclaimed Inez, in blank amazement, 
AAuth a tone of pronounced dismay, “ Oh, Mrs. Herndon, 
you surely can’t mean that I have been lying here for 
three AA'eeks! Why, I thought, when I awoke the other 
morning, that I— I had only been taken ill the night be- 
fore— you said so, I am sure — but three Aveeks! Oh, it 
can’t be possible ! Is it? really? 

But good Mrs. Herndon had turned aAvay, and Avas busy 
raking doAvn the fire for the night, and, either didn’t 
hear, or didn’t wish to; anyAAuxy, she Avas as dumb as au 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 229 

oyster, even though Inez repeated the question three 
times. 

“ Now. then, kiss me good-night, and go to sleep, like a 
good girl,” exclaimed the motherly old soul, after she luid 
put everything in order for the night, and was upon the 
point of retiring. ‘‘If you Avant anything after I have 
left you, just I’each out your hand and ring this bell; my 
room adjoins this one, and I shall leave the door between 

open all night long, and No, no, no! you mustn’t 

ask me any more questions, for I really shall not answer 
them.” 

‘‘13ut only one, dear Mrs. Herndon,” pleaded Inez, 
with tearful earnestness. ‘‘I’ll go right to sleep then — I 
promise you that I will — and, if you’ll only just let me 
ask you one little question ” 

‘‘Very well, then; but only one, mind I Now, then, 
what is it?” 

‘‘Please tell me how long I have been sick, and what 
has been the matter with me? and if Lord Glandore or — 
or anybody else has called to see me?” 

‘‘And you call that one question, do you?” responded 
Mrs. Herndon, Avith a gentle smile. ‘‘ Well, it’s three, to 
my Avay of counting, my dear; but if you’ll promise me 
not to ask another, and to go to sleep the very minute I 
leave you. I’ll answer all of them. You have been sick ex- 
actly tAventy-three days this very evening; you’ Am passed 
through a serious attack of brain fever, and there has 
been no one here but Robert and the doctor and me. 
There now, not another Avord ! Good night and God bless 
you, my dear! I hope and pray that you Avill be strong 
enough to sit up in tlie morning.” 

Then dropping a tender kiss upon Miss Catheron’s pale, 
startled face, she gently lowered the light and passed into 
the adjoining room. 

But for all she had promised, sleep came not readily to 
Inez Cathei'on’s eyes after that, and far into the silent 
Avatches of the night she lay there, staring up into the 
darkness and pondering over her strange fate. 

‘‘ Sick tAA'enty thi-ee days!” she murmured, in a low, ter- 
rified voice; ‘‘ sick tAventy-three days and abandoned to the 
care of strangers! Oh, my HeaAmn! my Heaven! Avhat 
does it mean? av hat can it mean? He repudiated me in the 
letter— grandpa repudiated me — Avhen I felt sure that he 
must be half crazed over my disappearance, and even 
Alaric abandons me — Alaric aa'Iio Avas so fond.” 

To her surprise, the fact of Lord Keith’s abandonment 
did not hurt her a quarter so much as the knoAvledge that 
her grandfather and her aunt had deserted her in this 
mysterious and unheard-of fashion ; and, Avhile she kneAV 


230 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


that by every law of nature it was only right and proper 
for her to find her worst sorrow in the knowledge that her 
affianced husband had shown no interest in her fate, the 
fact remained that her keenest anguish lay in the thought 
that her own relatives had discarded her. 

She knew that she ought to be prostrated by her lover’s 
desertion more than by her grandfather’s, but somehow 
she could not rule her feelings and bend them to her Avill. 

The sweetness and the tenderness had somehow dropped 
out of that bright love-dream in the moment Avhen she 
read in the register of the Hotel de Paris that the man 
who had won her girl's heart had married another, and was 
lost to her forever ; and, try as hard as she would, she could 
not recall it in its former intensitj', and could not think of 
him now without some shadow of contempt for his short- 
lived passion. 

And so, pondering and marveling over this unaccount- 
able change in her feelings, she fell asleep at last, and 
dreamed that she was walking through a garden of roses, 
hand in hand with her grandfather and Eobert Herndon. 

It was close to nine o'clock when she awoke at last, to 
find Mi-s. Herndon entering the room with a tempting 
breakfast spread out upon a large japanned tray; and 
whatever shadows might have clung about her niemory, 
they were dispelled by the sunshine of that dear old face. 

“Good-morning, my dear,” exclaimed Mrs. Herndon, 
as she set down the tray and spread out the tempting 
breakfast. “You are looking a hundred times better 
than yesterday, and somebody else will be quite as glad 
of that as I am. But no questions for the present, if you 
please. I know that you are aching to ask dozens of 
them, but I positively forbid it until you have eaten your 
breakfast. You’re going to get up and be dressed this 
morning for being such a good girl yesterday.” 

“You treat me like a little child, dear Mrs. Herndon,” 
laughed Inez, softly. “If I remain under your care 
much longer, I shall positively doubt that I have passed 
the tender and guileless age of six !’ ’ 

Whereupon Margaret Herndon laughed too, and hav- 
ing seen Inez attack her breakfast, she bustled about, 
put the room in order, and then brought forth a pretty 
morning robe of pearl and gray silk with soft touches of 
lace and pale -blue ribbons, and placed it across a chair 
in readiness for the invalid to don when the time came 
for her to arise. Breakfast passed, and “dressing ” began 
at last. 

“What a pretty gown!” exclaimed Inez, as the dear 
old soul brought it forward and began arranging her in 
it. “It is quite new, too, and— and May I ask a, 


THE KING’S DAUGHTERS. 


281 


question now? Have you been wasting your money by 
purchasing this for me?” 

“No. indeed.” responded Mrs. Herndon, gayly. “I 
made it myself, dear — made it at night while j'ou were 
sleeping. Robert brought me the material. It was given 
to him by one of his customers.” 

“Then it was meant for you and you have deprived 
yourself of a pretty gown for the sake of adorning me!” 

“ Oh, deal’, no! It is much too gay for such an old fog}' 
as his mother,” laughed Mrs. Herndon, good-humoredly. 
“He chose the colors because they suited you, he saicl, 
and the dear foolish fellow ransacked half a dozen shops 
before he could find just the particular shade of grey he 
desired.” 

“But you said it was given to him, Mrs. Hei’iidon?” 

“Why, yes, certainly — of course it was! Given in 
exchange for a little scrap of painting which he had in 
his studio. Monsieur Renaud wanted it very much last 
summer, but Robert didn’t care to part with it then, but 
when it occurred to him that you needed some garments 

he took it to ^Monsieur Renaud’s shop, and Well, 

they gave him what he wanted, and he made Monsieur 
Renaud a present of the picture, that’s all !” 

A faint, warm color drifted into Inez’s cheeks, and her 
blue eyes filled with tears. 

“And he parted with a picture he wished to keep to 
secure clothing for me— a mere outcast, a stranger, who 
lias no claim upon his bounty!” she said huskily. “Oh, 
Mrs. Herndon, why did you let him do it? Surely I have 
been trouble and expense enough with that?” 

“Tut! tut! tut! my dear, don’t talk nonsense!” re- 
sponded Mrs. Herndon, with a laugh, “and now that 
you’re all dressed, if you want to reward him for his 
patience, just give me leave to put him out of his misery 
by telling him that he may come up and see you.” 

“With all my heart,” returned Inez as she sunk grace- 
fully but wearily into the deep, soft chair which Mrs. 
Herndon placed for her before the grate fire. “Tell him 
that I shall be glad to see and thank him for all his good- 
ness to me.” 

Mrs. Herndon nodded and smiled her thanks for this 
privilege, and having removed the breakfast dishes and 
made up the bed— chatting the while with Inez, and flut- 
tering about like a little brown wren-darted out of the 
room and returned presently with Robert. 

“Now, then, ask all the questions you like, my dear,” 
she twittered in her blithe, bird-like way, as she led the 
big, handsome fellow forward, blushing furiously and 
looking as happy as a schoolboy with a pair of new 


232 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


skates, “ for I shan’t be afraid now of letting out all the 
secrets I’ve been cautioned to keep during the past three 
days !’ ’ 

“Oh, I’m immensely happy to see you up and looking 
so well again, Miss Inez!” exclaimed Eobert, taking the 
little white hand she held out to him, and squeezing it 
harder than he knew between his big warm palms. “I 
can’t begin to tell you how eagerly my mother and I 
have looked forward to this day.” 

Inez lifted her eyes, blushed, and let them drop again. 
The position Avas a peculiarly embarrassing one after the 
blundering admission he had made to her regarding his 
motive for painting “La Fleur de Foret,” and for a mo- 
ment she knew not what to say. 

“Your mother has been telling me what you have done 
for me, Mr. Herndon,” she said, after a momentary pause. 
“ I don’t know how to thank you, for it is not a case where 
mei’e thanks can repay. I have been a great trial and 
expense to you, but when I grow strong enough to help 
myself, I hope and pray that I may have an opportunity 
to prove to you how grateful I am for all that you have 
done.” 

“ I do not require it. I do not ask it,” he said in reply. 
“The consciousness that you have passed through the 
struggle and will soon be well and strong again, is the only 
reward I seek. It has been a happiness to do something 
for you. Miss Inez— I hope you aviH believe that.” 

“ I do believe it,” she answered. “You have been to 
me the truest and kindest of friends, Mr. Herndon, when 
all others have failed— others who should have stood by 
me, and whose desertion I cannot understand.” 

L cloud seemed to come across his face, and his lips 
quivered. 

He had hoped that her delusion would have passed with 
the fever, but now he I’ealized that that hope was vain. 

S>he saw the change, and Avas quick to understand its 
meaning. 

“You thought me unsound of mind Avhen first I came 
to you, Mr. Herndon, and you think so still,” she said; 
“and Avhen I recollect how strangely I have been repudi- 
ated, I can scai’oely blame you for it. But there is some 
strange and terrible mystery here, for it cannot be possi- 
ble that I have dreamed my life— it cannot be possible that 
I have been mad for twentj’^ years and only noAv have be 
come sane. There has been no effort made to look into my 
case, your mother tells me— no effort upon the part of Lord 
Glandore, I mean ” 

“None,” he ansAvered dejectedly. “Would you like to 
read his letter again? Here it is.” 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


233 


He put it into her hands as he spoke, and unfolding it 
with trembling fingers, Inez slowly read it through, her 
face paling again, and her eyes expanding, part in terror, 
part in surprise. 

Robert watched her intently until she had reached the 
conclusion, then, putting his hand into his pocket, he drew 
forth a folded newspaper. 

“ It is the London Times," he said, as he held it out to 
her, and placed his finger upon a paragraph which he had 
previously marked. “See this item, Miss Inez, and tell 
me what you think. It is an announcement of Lady Inez 
Keith’s illness — she has been prostrated for some weeks by 
a nervous fever, and still lies ill at — Glandore Court.” 

Inez glanced at the paragraph, and breathlessly read it. 

For a moment she sat with her eyes fastened upon the 
paper — sitting bolt upright, and neither speaking nor 
moving — then, with a sudden, wailing cry, she dropped 
back in her seat, and clapped both hands over her face. 

“My Heaven! have I been mad, or am I losing my 
reason noio f" she cried out, in a faint, heart- wrung 
voice. “ I have been Inez Catherou for twenty yeai*s, and 
now ! What am I? Who am I, since I have ceased to be 
myself?” 


CHAPTER LI. 

“the woman’s heel shall bruise the serpent’s 

HEAD.” 

Robert leane.d gently’’ over her chair, and as he did so 
something warm and wet trickled down his cheek and 
dropped upon her bright, bowed head. 

“ What does it matter, so that you have found friends 
who love you, and will stand between you and the world 
forever?” he gently said. “ You are here. Miss Inez, hero 
with my mother and me. Try to be happy with us, and 
who shall say that tho dream was ever sweeter than the 
awakening may yet become? Dear, if a life’s devotion 
can make the humble reality atone for the splendid image 
of your fancy, there lies before you an everlasting para- 
dise. Your home is here — henceforth — let no fear for the 
future ever enter your head.” 

She took the hand he rested upon the arm of her chair, 
and obeying a sudden impulse lifted it to her lips. 

“ It were worth fifty fortunes to gain one friend like 
this!” she said, looking up at him with sti-eaming eyes; 
“and weighed in Heaven’s balance Inez Catheron, the 
outcast, is richer by far than Inez Catheron the heiress 
ever was. It is not for the lost wealth I grieve, and not 
for the man who is content to take another for his wife, so 


234 


THE KINHS DAUGHTERS. 


that she bear m}' name and inherit my fortune; it is, be- 
cause I have been deceived in those who professed to love 
nie — because I have lost home, relatives, identity, and for 
no act of my own am exiled like this. Oh, Robert, Mr. 
Herndon, I ” 

“ Why change it?” he interrupted, gently. “Let it be 
‘ Robert ’ always— Robert and mother — if you will, Inez. 
They will seem sweeter to us, if you can learn to use 
them.” 

“Robert and mother!" she softly said, reaching out a 
hand to each, and smiling as they took them. “ Oh, I 
am rich again ! for if the purse is bankrupt, the heart is 
a millionaire. I have lost a palace, but I have gained a 
home, and all that fate took from me is not worth this 
which Heaven gives in return. My life before this, 
whether real or fancied, was without a purpose, Robert, 
but has found one now, and I shall not again relinquish 
it!” 

“ You mean that you will begin to forget the dream and 
remember only the awakening, Inez?” 

“No,” she answered. “I mean that I will prove the 
dream, and having proved it, live only in the awakening. 
Such goodness as you and your mother have shown to me 
deserves a richer * reward than the empty thanks of the 
outcast and the burden of another dependent. If I am 
Inez Catheron I have rights which must be recognized, 
and wealth which shall not be held by robbers and in- 
grates. If I am not Inez Catheron, it is but just to you 
and to me to prove who and what I am, and why I was in- 
carcerated in a madhouse, before you opened ymur doors 
to me and received me into your home. There is a mystery 
hei'e which must and shall be cleared up, Robert, for if I 
am not Inez Catheron. I must discover who I really am.” 

“ Dear, you need not let it trouble you. Besides, it may’ 
be a harder task than you imagine, for even the gypsies 
denied your existence, and it is only fair to suppose that 
they’ will now deny’ ymur identity^” 

“The gypsies!” she echoed, with a faint shudder of dis- 
gust. “ Oh, Robert, why will you persist in fancies when 
you seek to drive them away from me f I tell you I know 
no gypsies — never spoke to one in my life, and as for be- 
ing connected with them even in the most remote 
way ” 

“Will you let me show ymu something, Inez?” lie inter- 
rupted, gently^ “You are still to weak too walk, but 

Will ymu let me cany ymu in my arms and show ymu the 
picture I painted from memory after the night I spent in 
the gypsies’ camp at Cam Ruth, in Wales? You expressed 
a wish to see it before you were taken ill, and since then I 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 235 

have had it carried into my studio. Will you let me take 
you there and show you my masterpiece?” 

“Yes,” she answered, excitedly, her mind reverting to 
the story he had told her regarding “ La Fleur de Foret,” 
“ I should like to see it, Robert. But you must not think 
of carrying me. I am sure that I can walk, with a little 
assistance.” 

She had ai-isen to her feet while speaking; but her 
weakness was only too apparent; and catching up a shawd 
that laj' close at hand, he bundled it about her, and before 
she realized his intention, lifted her in his pow'erful arms 
and strode towai’d the door. 

“See! you are but a feather’s w'eight, after all!” he 
lightly said ; and laughing at her protests, stalked aw^ay 
with her out of the room, across the hallway, and so into 
his studio. 

“ Look !” he exclaimed, as he bore her to the place w^here 
the painting stood resting against the wall, and seated hel* 
upon a shabby old lounge before it. “Look! that is the 
girl I saw in the gypsies’ camp. Tell me, do you recognize 
her face?” 

She caught her breath with one fluttering gasp of amaze- 
ment, and sat upright suddenly, staring at the picture for 
many moments, as though a spell or stupor had fallen 
upon her. Then: 

“ Am I looking in a mirror, or is that face really paint- 
ed upon the canvas?” she exclaimed, in a slow, wavering 
voice. 

“It is painted — see!” he answ'ered, passing his hand 
over the canvas and drumming lightly upon it with his 
finger-tips. “So I saw' that girl in life, Inez, and so I 
shall continue to see her until the day of my death. I 
shall never paint the equal of that picture again; my 
fame rose with it, and will set with it; but though my 
name be never heard in the w'orld of art again, the picture 
w'ill yet have achieved its purpose, and its sale bring me 
enough to keep us in a happy, humble way all the rest of 
our lives. It is to be my dower to my bride when I wun 
her. If it had not been reserved for that, I could have 
sold it to Lady Keith three weeks ago, and received my 
own price.” 

“To Lady Keith!” repeated Inez, huskily. “Did she 
want that picture? And you — you saw her then— saw the 
woman who has stolen aw'ay my birthright, and married 
him ?” 

“No,” he answ'ered. “ I saw her husband only. Lord 
Keith came to me to purchase the picture for his wdfe 
when it w'as on exhibition at the salon. She w'as possessed 
of a fever to buy it, but I told him it was not for sale— 


236 


THE KIN&S DAUGHTERS. 


promised him that when it was. Lady Keith should have 
the first refusal of it. He was excited at first, but gradu- 
ally calmed down, although he seemed worried and anx- 
ious when I refused to part with the picture, and eventu- 
ally offered to pay me any reasonable price to have the 
picture i*emoved from the walls of the salon.' ^ 

“ And you did it?” 

Inez spoke so suddenly and with such vehemence that 
he turned and stared at her in surprise. 

“ Yes.” he said, “I had it removed from exhibition that 
very night. Lord Keith said that it would be a constant 
regret to his wife if the picture hung there, and she un- 
able to purchase it, and out of consideration to Lady 
Keith’s feelings, I promised to have it removed, while 
at ” 

A sharp and sudden cry from Inez broke in upon his 
words. 

“That Avoman — that woman!” she cried out excitedly, 
‘‘Robert, that woman knows something regarding my 
disappearance— her eagerness to have the picture hidden 
proves that she does, and I am now more sure than ever 
that the past was real, and I am Inez Catheron after all !” 

Robert groaned and averted his face. 

‘‘Ah! will you never dispel this idle fancy, dear?” he 
said, sadly. ‘‘Even in the face of such proof as this 
picture offers, can you still doubt that the past was a 
dream, and I saw you as a gypsy at the very time when 
you claim to have been at Glandore Court? I was not 
dreaming, or I could not have reproduced your face so 
perfectly, nor is it possible that you could have been 
seen in two places at once.” 

A sudden cry from Inez— a cry, sharp, shrill, full of a 
sti'ange blending of fear and joy-^rung suddenly forth as 
he ceased speaking, for memory had suddenly traveled 
back to that far-off night when Lord Keith first came to 
join the house-party at Glandore Court, and her mind re- 
curred to the story he told of the phantom face which had 
looked at him through the shrubbery at Bracken Hollow 
— a face that Avas the counterpart of her OAvn. 

‘‘The gypsies! the gypsies!” she cried out, excitedly. 
‘‘They came to Bracken Hollow only the night before, 

and that face Oh, Robert, Robert, I vmderstand all 

at last! I haA’-e a double someAvhere — there is a Avoman 
in existence avIio so closely resembles me that she has 
stolen my birthright and robbed me of my name!” 

‘‘Oh, Inez, Inez! Avhat new fancy is this?” 

‘‘It is not a fancy, it is truth — truth !” she protested. 
‘‘ And, if jmu are, indeed, my friend, prove it now. Do 
me one favor— one little favor, Robert, and I Avill never 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


287 


ask another, and never harbor this ‘fancy,’ as you call 
it, from the hour it is granted to me. I shall be well 
and strong enough in a fortnight; please promise to do 
me a favor then — promise me that, I implore!” 

“ If it be in my power to grant it ” 

“ It is in your power — it is! it is!” 

‘‘Then I promise 'to do it, Inez!” he answered, gently. 
‘‘Now tell me what you desire?” 

” Take me to Glandox*e Court !” she responded, excitedly. 
‘‘Take me where I can sfee Lord Keith’s wife, and stand 
face to face with the Earl of Glandore, and, if I fail to 
prove then that I am Inez Catheron, I swear to you, 
Eobert, that I will believe the past a dream, and let you 
make the future what you will !” 


CHAPTER LII. 

“TO LOVE OR HATE— TO WIN OR LOSE.” 

Like one drunk with wine. Lord Keith staggered down 
the semi-darkened corridor, after he walked out of the 
libi-ary and left Lady Blanche, and bent his steps in the 
direction of the drawing-room, where he knew he should 
find his wife in the company of Lady Elsdale and the old 
earl ; but before he reached the doorway, a sudden revul- 
sion of feeling overcame him, and, slipping into the 
smoking-room, he closed the door, sunk down upon a 
divan, and bowed his face between his hands. For a time 
he remained thus, then he laughed aloud— a strange, 
hollow, half hysterical laugh— and springing to his feet, 
turned toward the door, for the purpose of going instantly 
to his wife and performing the part he had promised, 
when he caught sight of his own face in the mirror over 
the fire-place, and stopped short with a startled excla- 
mation, and stood death still, staring at the ghastly re- 
flection. 

“'My God! have a few minutes changed me like that?” 
he uttered, in a dull, hoarse whisper. “ I can’t go before 
her with that face, or she will know that something has 
up.set me— something terrible enough to give me the look 
of a man who has been put to the rack— and yet I must 
see her. I must have this matter settled before we are an 
hour older.” 

It did not take him long to decide how to act in the face 
of this new difficulty— his mind might be clouded in other 
things, but it was clear enough there— and turning with- 
out an instant’s delay to the electric button set in the wall 
beside the fireplace, he pre.ssed it thrice with hi.s finger as 
a signal that service was needed in the smoking-room. 

In less than a minute a powdered, gold-laced footman 


538 


THE IHNG'S DAUGHTERS. 


tapped for admission, and in answer to the sommons camO 
in, and found his lordship standing at the window as 
though intently studying the moonlit sky. 

“ Which is it, my lord?— brandy or cigars? Or Avill you 
have both?” he asked, in a deferential tone, for a call to 
the smoking-room was generally understood to take that 
shape. 

“Neither!” responded his lordship, keeping his back to 
the man and striving hard to speak naturally. “Have 
the kindness to step into the drawing-room and say to 
Lady Keith that there is something here which I wish to 
show her. That is all.” 

The footman bowed himself out of the room, but not 
until the closing of the door had assured him that he was 
alone, did Lord Keith cease to act as though he were en- 
grossed in some astronomical phenomenon, or venture to 
turn his livid countenance toward the light. 

But even then, it was only visible for an instant, for 
having accomplished his purpose, he strode directly to the 
center of the room, reached up his hand to the key of the 
chandelier, and with one swift movement shut off the gas. 

A partial darkness was the result— darkness tempered 
only by the faint red gleam of the coals in the open grate, 
and arraying a screen before this, so that the glancing 
light might not fall upon him. Lord Keith turned back to 
the window, and had just resumed his old position when 
the rustling sound of a woman’s gown came up the cor- 
ridor, the door opened softly and his wife glided into the 
room. 

“Springer tells me that you wish to show me something, 
Alar-ic,” she said, as she advanced, “but mercy! How 
gloomy it is here. This is what dear old Martha Boggs 
calls ‘ blindman’s holiday.’ Springer must have forgotten 
his duty this evening. Where is the taper? Sha’n’t I light 
the gas?” 

She had reached forth her hand while speaking, toward 
the place whei*e the taper always hung, and in a moment 
more would have thrust the end of it into the glowing 
grate, had not his lordship stayed the act. 

“No!” he answered, hastily. “It is not necessary. 
Never mind the gas. Come here— I wish to speak with 
you!” 

In his nervous fear lest she should light the gas and see 
his face as he had seen it in the mirror, he spoke so 
sharply and excitedly that she noticed the alteration in 
his tone, her hand dropped away from the taper and fell, 
a dead weight, at her side, and as though some shadow of 
suspicion crossed her mind, she started violently, remained 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


239 


standing for a moment as white and motionless as marble, 
then with a faint, fluttering breath : 

“What is the matter?” she said, in a weak, treacherous 
voice, reaching forth her hand again as she spoke, and 
leaning heavily upon the back of a chair for support. 
“ Has anything gone wrong? Why have y'ou sent for me? 
Have you heard bad news, Alaric?” 

“Yes,” he answered, turning and looking at her as she 
stood there, with the firelight gleam on her face and hair, 
and the fiowing lines of her white gown. “Yes, I have 
heard bad news, Inez; but it need not startle you, dear, 
for things which seem bad at first, have often quite a 
trifling appeai'ance Avhen we study them out. There may 
be nothing much in this, after all; but I wish to talk with 
you about — about Lancedene!” 

“Your ancestral home!” she breathed, with a sigh of 
infinite relief. “Oh, yes, we were to clear off the mort- 
gages as soon as we returned from our bridal tour. I 
hope that it is not too late. Alaric, why did you not speak 
to me of it befoi*e?” 

“No, it is not too late I” he answered, glad of this ex- 
cuse. “But I should like to speak with you about it. and 
there are some plans for improving the estate which I 
should like to show you, dear, I think that Adolph packed 
them in one of my trunks. ITl run up and see, however. 
Would you mind going to the conservatory, dear, and wait- 
ing there until I come down? It is rather close in here.” 

“No, certainly not! Why should I?” she answered, 
with such radiance that his conscience smote him again, 
“You know I am fond of sitting in the conservatory to 
talk. The scent of the flowers and trees, and the faint, 
moist warmth of the air always makes me think of roam- 
ing through the woods and fields in summer time; and 
that seems ’’—she was upon the point of saying “ natural 
to me,” but recollected herself, and added quickly — 
“that seems to bring back a memory of the night when 
you first told me that you loved me, Alaric. Yes, I Avill 
go to the conservatory, with pleasure. Shall you be long, 
dear?” 

“About ten or fifteen minutes,” he answered, as he 
opened the door and stood back in the shadow while she 
passed him and went out. “I am not certain just where 
to lay my hand upon the plans, and it will take me all of 
that to rummage through my effects and find them. 
Don’t look for me any sooner, at all events.” 

“I will try to be patient,” she answered, with a light 
laugh. 

Then fluttering away in the twilight of the semi-dark- 
ened corridor, she turned down the branching passage 


240 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


which led to the ballroom and the conservatory, and a 
moment or two later Lord Keith heard the faint clash of 
the ciystal doors closing behind her, and knew that she 
had gone to face the ordeal. 

For a moment he paused with boAved head and limply 
hanging hands, as though ashamed of himself, and hum- 
bly bending to that burden of remorse which he felt must 
soon be his to bear; then, Avith a sudden mov’ement, he 
stepped out into the corridor, closed the door of the smok- 
ing-room, and softly but swiftly Avent after her. 

Whatever faith had fallen before my lady’s wicked lies 
and crafty schemes, one look into his Avife’s face had 
strengthened and revived again, and this Avas certain: 
When a moment later he silently opened the ci^stal doors 
of the conservatory and slid like a shadoAV behind the 
clustering foliage, he Avent to play the spy upon a woman 
in Avhose purity he firmly believed, and Avhose honor ho 
felt with the certainly of positive knoAvledge Avould be 
vindicated before another hour had passed. 


CHAPTER LIII. 

“’tis called the mouse-trap.” 

Straight across the ballroom to the doors of the con- 
servatory — her pretty face aflame Avith malicious smiles, 
her dark andalusian eyes agleam Avith a tawny, AAmlfish 
light, and her wicked little heart fairly bounding AA’ith a 
rapturous happiness— my Lady Blanche Hay Avent, after 
she left the librarA% and stealing in amongst the foliage 
and the floAvers "fluttered airly doAvn the long, bloom- 
bordered avenue betAveen the loAv-turned flames of the 
violet lamps Avhich lined both sides of the walk, made her 
Avay to a clump of palms close to the rear door of the 
greenhouse, and brushing aside the foliage leaned forward 
and looked in. 

A thin iron tube surmounted by a small Avheel, not too 
large to be entirely covered by the palm of her oavu little 
Avhite hand — that Avas all the brushing aside of the palms’ 
leaves i*evealed, but that little Avas quite enough to satisfy 
my lady, as the expi*ession of her face revealed. 

She put forth her hand, clasped the little Avheel, turned 
it a trifle — first to the right and then to the left — Avith the 
result that all the lamps of the conservatory suddenly 
flashed forth a brilliant light, and then as suddenly greAv 
dim again. 

“That will do,” she muttered, as she Avithdrew her 
hand, allowing the palms to come together again and con- 
ceal the simple device by Avhich the lighting of the con- 
servatory Avas governed. ‘ ‘ One pi'eliminary flash of the 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


241 


lights was the signal agreed npon — the signal to be ready 
for tho master-stroke — and if all has gone well, and j’^ou 
are in the grounds as yon promised, my estimable father, 
it will not be long before the curtain rings up on the turn- 
ing-point of the tragedy. But if you are not there ” 

She caught her breath with one sharp gasp as though 
even the bare prospect of such a thing cut her to the quick; 
and then recovering herself, shrugged her shoulders with 
a short, metallic laugh. 

“ What miserable nonsense I am talking !” she exclaimed 
as she moved further down the avenue and approached the 
rear door of the conservatory. “Not there — Marco not 
there — when the vengeance he has waited for for years 
depends upon his presence ! I might as reasonably gjance 
outside to see if the sky were still there as to fear Marco’s 
absence to-night. He is there, sure enough, there with the 
precious young fool he has invited to join him in a poach- 
ing expedition ; and it only remains for me to pave the 
way for him, like this!” 

And “like this ” was further illustrated by her ladyship 
softly I’emovingthe fastenings of the rear door, and gently 
swinging it open, allowing a breeze from the outer world 
to sweep over the flowers and mingle its frosty breath 
with the artificial atmosphere of the conservatory. 

“ When you Avish to come you will find the Avay clear, 
my hot-headed Gypsy Jock!” she chuckled, as she turned 
away and crept out of sight behind a hedge of orange- 
trees, loaded with fruits and flowers. “ The audience is 
assembled, the overtui-e has been played, the actors wait, 
and now nothing remains but for the curtain to rise and 
the tragedy to begin. Come, Lady Zillah Keith; come, 
my lord, the trusting husband, the hour I have Avaited for 
is here at last, and I am eager to strike a fang into your 
flesh and see the poison rankle!” 

Then sinking doAvn into a rustic seat behind the orange- 
ti'ees, she leaned her dark head back against the i*ail of 
the garden chair and patiently Avaited for the arrival of 
her victims. 

Some five or six minutes passed Avithout the faintest 
sound disturbing the stillness — for during this time all that 
was related in the foregoing chapter took place — then 
there echoed the soft pil-pat, pit-pat of a Avoman’s foot- 
falls, the sound of the crystal doors opening and closing, 
the frou-frou of a silken garment brushing the marble 
pavement of the avenue, and my lady, parting the branches 
of her boAvered retreat, peered forth and caught sight of 
Zillah. 

She Avas sauntering leisurely doAvn the paved avenue of 
the conservatory, humming softly to herself, and pluck- 


242 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


ing a flower here and there, to make a bouquet for the 
purpose of passing away the time until her husband should 
come to keep his appointment with her — the faint gleam 
of the violet lamps shedding a tender glow over her as she 
slowly moved from flower to flower and tree to tree, her 
jewels catching the light and flashing it back in rainbow 
rays, her white silken gown trailing in graceful folds 
along the marble pavement, and her head in that light — 
wreathed as with a halo, born of the gas-gleams on her 
own bright hair. 

Leaning forward, and watching that white figure as it 
slowly glided toward her, my lady had suddenly become 
aware that the doors which .led from the ballroom to the 
conservatory were slowly swinging open — slowly, sound- 
lessly, but surely — and, bending further forward, with 
one sharp, indrawn breath, she watched for the end. 

It came, Avith scarce a moment’s pause between the 
soundless opening of the doors and their silent closing; at 
first but a shadow lengthening across the pavement, then 
the swift passage of a body, going fi'om one side of the 
avenue to the other, and disappearing in the aisles of 
leaves; but in that one instant, as it crossed the open space 
Avhere the lights fell faintly on it, my lad}’- had recognized 
the face and figure of Alaric Keith, and knew that her 
Avaiting Avas at an end. 

Utterly unconscious — for her back Avas toward the door 
by Avhich her husband had entei’ed, and his soundless step 
had struck no note of Avarning upon her ear as he crossed 
the marble pavement — Zillah Avas straying down the bloom- 
Avalled avenue, humming softly the SAveet refrain of a 
tender love-song, and filling her belt Avith some loose 
sprays of heliotrope massed Avith Avhite carnations, and 
pausing but a moment that her victim might reach the 
spot Avliere she Avished their meeting to take place, my 
lady rustled sharply foi’Avard and confronted her. 

At the sound of her hasty footfall, Zillah started and 
glanced up, saAv her as she came speeding forAvard, 
saAV, too, the open door beyond, and, Avith a faint, flut- 
tering cry, dropped the floAvers she Avas gathering and re- 
coiled. 

“Fly!” exclaimed Lady Blanche, as she fluttered for- 
ward and paused beside the clump of palms before alluded 
to; “fly, or all is lost. Your old lover, Gypsy Jock, has 
tracked you doAvn and threatens to betray you to your 
husband!” 

My lord, peering from behind the foliage opposite the 
spot Avhei'e this encounter had taken place, leaned foi-Avard 
with a glad smile on his lips, Avaiting for the indignant an- 


243 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 

swer to this startling and unexpected accusation, but he 
waited in vain, for it never came. 

At the mention of that name all Zillah’s vital forces 
seemed to collapse; every vestige of color left her cheeks 
and lips; a look like the look in the eyes of a cornered ani- 
mal arose in hers, and she lifted them to Lady Blanche’s 
face and fell back, weak and faint with terror. 

“ Jock !” she cried out in an awful voice. “ Jock— here? 
— at Glandore Court? Oh, wretch! wretch! it is you, 
then, who have called him here, and you have betrayed 
me!” 

“ Does it look like betrayal when 1 am come to warn 
you?” exclaimed her ladyship excitedly. ” Does it look 
like betrayal when I tell you of his presence in time for 
you to fly before he encounters your husband, and tells 
nim— tells Lord Keitli — of the time when you lived among 
gypsies and owned yourself one of them? Do you think 
that I wish to see murder done?— as it will be if they two 
meet!” 

“ Murder!” 

“ Yes, murder — for your gypsy lover is the sworn enemy 
of the man you have married, and if he cannot have 
vengeance upon him ” 

“He must not — he shall not,” broke in Zillah, with a 
shriek. “I love him— I love him, and before Jock’s hand 
shall be lifted against Alaric — I will acknowledge the truth 
— acknowledge the shameful thing I have done — and go 
back to the hideous old life, and become again and forever 
a vagabond and a gypsy! Alaric must not be harmed. 
Whatever sin there has been it is mine, Lady Blanche, 
mine! and my husband shall not be slain for my mis- 
deeds!” 

My lady almost sci’eamed with delight at this reckless 
outburst. 

“And do you think you can prevent it? Jock is here, 1 
tell you, and he avows his purpose to have the life of the 
man who came between him and you. Fly while there is 
yet time, for what chance have you against such odds as 
this ? If you save Lord Keith’s life, what, think you, will he 
say to the disclosure Jock has to make? What, think you. 
will he say when Jock tells him the true story of ‘ La Fleur 
de Foret ’ and confesses that what Robert Herndon said re- 
garding the original of the picture is true in every partic- 
ular? What Avill your husband say when he hears that? 
What will he say when he learns Avhat you were in the 
past when you lived among the gypsies and were known 
to them as Zillah the ” 

“Help me— save me— protect me. Heaven!” she broke 
in^wildly. “He mustn’t know— he mustn’t know! I’d 


244 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 

sooner drop dead this minute than have him discover 
what I was in the past, and 1 k)w shamefully I have de- 
ceived him! ril buy Jock off; I’ll pay any price— any 
price! but the shameful secret shall be kept!” 

“But what price can you offer me that is worth such 
shame as this!” 

The voice came like the falling of a thunder -bolt upon 
poor Zillah’s ears, and, whirling as she heard and recog- 
nized it, she found herself standing face to face with her 
husband ! 

“Oh, Heaven! Lord Keith !” exclaimed Lady Blanche,- 
in well-simulated surprise, as she recoiled and clapped 
both hands over her face — for the express purpose of 
hiding the look of diabolical joy which she knew was 
there. 

But Zillah made no movement— uttered no outcry. 

In the moment she turned and faced him, all the vital 
springs seemed to run dry, and even the power to fall 
at his feet seemed denied to her, for she stood there and 
looked at him as though she had been -changed to stone. 

“I'or God’s sake, tell me, is this thing true?” he cried, 
shrinking back from her, as though her very breath bred 
pestilence and death. “Are you, whom God has given 
me to be the wife of my bosom, the sharer of my name, 
the mother of my children — are you that ?” 

No answer — no movement. 

She stood bolt upright, looking at him with the eyes of 
death, but giving no sign she heard — no evidence but that 
his words had killed her. 

“Answer me!” he cried, gripping her arm and giving 
her a shake. “ Are you so sunk in shame that you will 
not have pity on the man Avho has married you, and for 
once be honest with him? Is it true what I have heard, 
and are you such a wretch as that?” 

“ Alaric!” 

It was the first word she uttered, the first sign she 
had given that she realized what he said or did, but the 
amount of pathos crowded into that one word — the sorrow 
and suffering and shame that seemed to quiver through 
her tone, and through every fiber of her being as she spoke 
it, can never be reproduced by mere words. 

“Answer me!” he cried again. “Will you or will you 
not tell me to my face that you have wantonly betrayed 
me, cruelly duped me, and with a mask of innocence 
covered a past of hypocrisy and shame? Do you not see? 
I have become so low by shaidng your life and giving my 
honor into your polluted hands, that you must glut the 
cravings of my vile nature and let it learn afresh how foul a 
thing it has become. I have heard once, but it does not 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


345 


satisfy me. Tell me again. I am eager to hear the whole 
measure of my shame, and will not let you rob me of a 
hair- weight. Tell me again if all this thing is true!” 

“ Alaric!” 

“ Oh, cheat! Oh, miserly cheat, will you rob me of half 
that is my due, and tiw to appease my thirsting soul with 
the sweet-lipped sounding of my name alone? Tell me! 
tell me! My God, before I kill you ! Is it true?” 

“Yes,” she answered, in a voice that scarcely stu-red 
the stillness. “ Kill me, it will be sweet to die. It is true 
— it is true!” 

He lifted the hand that still clutched her wrist— lifted it 
passionately, swiftly, vehemently, bringing hers up with 
it, as though he meant to dash her to the earth and tram- 
ple on her; then, with a strange, wild cry, that was like 
the whining of a wounded animal, he loosed his grip, and 
flung her powerless arm from him. 

She had not flinched through all; her eyes had met his 
eyes with a look as though she begged that he would kill 
her, and something that was like sorrow seemed to come 
over her face when she realized that he would not. 

“ Kill me, Alaric!” she faintly cried. “ I have lost all 
that I would cai-e to live for. Kill me — I should like to 
die!” 

“Kill you!” he echoed, with a tenible laugh. “Ah, 
no! death is not for you. Lady Keith. The world needs 
such women as you— needs them to stand as finger-posts 
upon the path to degredation, that honest souls may be 
warned from destruction. And you wish to die? Youf 
My prayer is that you may live a thousand years— until 
you become as loathsome to yourself as you have become 
to me. Kill you? No. that is an honor I reserve for your 
lover. Lady Keith! Tell me where he is — tell me where I 
mav find him. It is his death I want — his, not yours — 
Delilah!” 


CHAPTER LIV. 

“with the compliments of MARTHA BOGGS.” 

For the first time, the awful apathy of despair, which 
had fallen upon her in the first moment of their meeting, 
melted away before the fire and fury of his final words, 
and, realizing, with a sense of horror too deep to be ex- 
pressed by the tongue, she flung herself directly in his 
path, and threw wide her arms, barring his way with a 
living cross. 

“Alaric!” she cried, in an awful voice— “ Alaric, you 
must not do it! you shall not do it !” 


S46 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


“ What! has the fire not quite burnt itself out yet?” he 
exclaimed, with a short, diy laugh. ” Are there still some 
warm gleams hidden in the ashes? And is there still one 
tender spot in the heart’s holy of holies for the man who 
was once your lover? Stand aside, and let me pass out! 
The man is here — in Leith, in tlie neighborhood of Glan- 
dore Court— and, though he bury himself in the caverns 
of the earth, I’ll find and drag him forth!” 

“ Alaric, you must not !” she panted, breathlessly. “No 
matter where he is, nor what he is, you must not meet 
that man. You shall not risk falling a prey to the sleep- 
less cunning of gypsy vengeance, nor stain your own dear 
hands with the blood of a fellow -creature. Whatever 
disgrace you bear has come to you through me; and, 
though you tear me limb from limb, I will stand here and 
fight you to the last before any act of your own shall 
deepen this disgrace, or the stain of murder fall upon your 
name. Let my blood be shed, if blood alone can wipe out 
the misery I have brought you, but meet Gypsy Jock yon 
never shall. Never — never!” 

“Stand aside !” he roared. “ I do not Avish to again lay 
a hand upon you— either in violence or in tenderness; but 
if you bar my way to that man. I’ll dash you from my 
path, and reach him if I have to step across your body ! 
Stand aside! do you hear me?” 

“I never Avill!” she answered, in a voice of resolution. 
“Never, Alaric — I swear it! Stop! do not try to pass me 
or I will scream for help. You shall not meet him. See! 
I will not let you go.” 

She had come nearer while she was speaking, but with 
those final words, she threw herself upon his bosom; her 
outstretched arms closing suddenly, locked themselves 
about his neck with all the fierce strength of despair, and so; 

“ You shall not do it!” she cried again. “ I’ll hold you 
living. I’ll hold you dead, Alaric, but reach Gj^psy Jock, I 
swear that you never shall!” 

He uttered one wrathful, loud-voiced cry, and seizing 
her locked arms, wrenched and tore at them in a furious 
effort to be free; and catching sight of the unequal sti’iig- 
gle, mj" lady knew that her time had come. 

Covered by the scuffling sounds and the excited voices 
of the two participants in this unequal struggle, her foot- 
falls gave forth no sound as she moved to the clump of 
palms, her Avhite arm slipped like a flash through the clus- 
tering foliage, her eager hand touched the iron Avheel, 
gripped, turned it, and it one instant a dazzling sheet of 
gaslight flashed thi-ough the leafy aisles of the conserva- 
tory and illumined it from end to end. 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


247 


For a second those struggling figures stood locked to- 
gether under the glare of that penetrating light; for a sec- 
ond theirs were the only voices that sounded, theirs the 
only feet that scuffled on the marble pavement ; then from 
the darkness without the crystal walls of the conservatoiy 
there arose a sudden cry, and after it: 

“ Marco, Marco! See! it is she!” roared forth the voice 
of Gypsy Jock. ‘‘I have found her again— found her and 
him — him — him !’ ’ 

And with those words there came a clatter of hasty foot- 
steps across the terrace, the figure of Gypsy Jock leaped 
through the open doorway of the conservatory, and came 
bounding toward the struggling pair, Avith Marco follow- 
ing hastily upon his heels. 

A dramatist, planning carefully an exciting situation, 
could have arranged nothing more startling than this 
climax of my lady’s plot, and the Avay it was carried out. 

Warned by that ciy, and recognizing the voice that ut- 
tered it, Zillah glanced up, saw him as he bounded to- 
ward her, and, breaking out of her husband’s arms, fied 
toward the advancing man. 

‘ ‘ Zillah !” he cried, as she approached him. ‘ ‘ Zillah, my 
beloved! At last — at last — I find thee!” 

She gave no heed to his words, but darting toward him 
with outstretched arms and Avhite face gleaming in the 
gaslight : 

‘‘Fly! Jock, fly!” she screamed. “Save yourself and 
spare him, and I will be a gypsy again!” 

My lord, hearing that cry and being released, turned 
like a flash, and as he moved forward to spring upon his 
foe, my lady’s slim, white hand reached out and shut off 
the gas; in the darkness my lord did not see that her foot 
Avas placed so that he could not avoid tripping over it, 
and rushing blindly onAA^ard, stumbled and spraAvled head- 
long upon the pavement, Avhere he lay for a moment or 
tAvo bruised and stunned by the fall. 

‘‘Go!” Avhispered my ladV, as she clutched her father's 
arm. ‘‘ Everything noAV lies in your escape Avith Jock. 
AAvay ! — away ! — quickly !” 

“ Come! come!— there’s danger here!” exclaimed 
Marco, as he gripped his companion’s arm and dragged 
him to the door. ‘‘Away, Jock, aAvay. To-morroAv thou 
shalt haA^e Zillah again. ‘But to-night— safety !” 

The only answer Avas an exultant cry, and then, as 
though he too realized Avhat peril menaced the gypsy 
poacher found on Lord Glandore’s domain, Jock bolted 
out of the door after him, and so rushed headlong into the 
anidst of half a dozen game-keepers. 


24S 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


“Nail ’em, my lads, nail the pair of ’em!” sang out a 
voice that Lady Blanche recognized with despair as be- 
longing to Bowtry, the head game keeper. “Boggs was 
right, the shrewd one— they are gypsies, and they warii’t 
a-poaching! Now, then, turn on your bull’s-eyes, lads, 
and let's see what they’ve been doing in the green-’ouse. 

Instantly thei*e was the clicking sound of the slides be- 
ing pushed back from have a dozen bull’s eye lanterns, 
the darkness was changed to light; and, glancing up with 
a sick sensation of despair and failure, my lady had the 
mortification of seeing her father and Gypsy Jock dragged 
back into the conservatory, surrounded by half a dozen 
stalwart game- keepers, and, following close on their heels, 
with glowing countenance and exultant eyes, Martha 
Boggs and — Lord Glandore. 

Nor did the surprise end here, for, as if by preconcerted 
signal, at the moment this party entered the rear door of 
tlie conservatory, another, repi-esenting all the household 
servants, headed by Lady Elsdale, made their appearance 
througli the front doorway, and in one moment the lights 
were up, the place was filled, and my lady, looking pale 
as death, found herself standing close to the spot where 
Lord Keith lay moaning upon the floor, and the center of 
a crowd which viewed her with stern and bitter looks. 

It was toward Zillah, however, that Lord Glandore 
made his first movement, but even before he touched her: 

“ Catch her quick, Bowtry!” exclaimed Martha Boggs, 
excitedly, “ and if she is popped in jail before morning, 
as true as I live. I’ll say ‘ yes ’ to what you’ve asked me 
so often, and marry you afore the week’s out!'’ 

And to Lady Blanche’s infinite amazement, Bowtry 
sprung forward quickly, clapped a heavy hand upon her 
delicate little wrist, and she awoke Avith a start to the as- 
tonishing discoA'ery that the person whom the head game- 
keeper had been ordered to “ catch quick,” was her own 
pretty, wicked little self. 

“Take your hand from my wrist this instant,” she 
blazed indignantly as she whirled around and scorched 
Bowtry with a look of insulted pride. “Are you intoxi- 
cated, or Avhat is the meaning of this outrage. Lord Glan- 
dore?” 

“Don’t ask him — ask me.'” exclaimed Martha Boggs, 
bustling forward and facing her. “ Oh, you wicked little 
hussy, you! Oh, you nasty little cat! to eat a body’s 
bread, and then set traps for ’em like this! So you Avas 
a-goin’ to make out as Miss Inez AAms once a livin’ gypsy, 
Avas you, you nasty little snake? And you Avant to know 
Avhat it all means, do you, mum? Well, I’ll take a pre- 


249 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 

cions good heap o’ joy in tollin’ you that it means, as I 
was a-settin’ behind them there curtains in the bow-win- 
der of the library, when you fetched Lord Keith in there 
to tell him lies about that there letter as you stole, and as 
soon as you ups and outs, why, I ups and outs arter you, 
and I goes straight to Lord Glandore, and tells him what 
a nasty, connivin’, sneaking little hussy you really are. 
Miss Maggie Talford — that teas ! So you can put that in 
your pipe and smoke it, with the compliments of Martha 
Boggs!” 


CHAPTER LV. 

I WILL UNSEX MYSELF FOR THIS. 

“ Oh, take me to England, Robert— take me to Glandore 
Court, and let me stand face to face with the old earl, 
and, if I do not then prove myself to be Inez Catheron, 
the heiress, I will believe with you that I have been the 
victim of a delusion, and will never refer to the subject 
again so long as we both live!’' 

These were the words Inez Catheron had uttered, as 
she sunk down on her knees in Robert Herndon’s atelier, 
and lifted her pale, beseeching face to his. 

For a moment the young artist hung his head and re- 
mained silent, his lips quivering and his eyes growing 
moist. 

“Oh, will jmu give me no answer, no promise, Robert?” 
resumed Inez, clasping her hands and swaying to and fro 
in a transport of agony and despair. “ Oh, why will you 
persist in believing me insane without attempting to 
prove if there be not some truth in this thing you call 
my fancy? Oh, Robert, best and truest of friends! is it 
just to condemn me on no other evidence then your own 
belief?” 

She arose with a faint, gasping cry, and stood for a 
second, trembling and silent, with both hands glasped 
over her eyes; then a dull red wave swept across her face 
and vanished— left it deathly pale — she made a sudden 
movement, as though the very desperation of the situ- 
ation had made her reckless, and so reaching out both 
hands came toward him again. 

“Robert!” she cried, in a choking voice, “Robert! you 
told me once that you loved the original of that picture, 
and that your life, since the hour you saw her, held but 
oco thought, wish, prayer— to win her for your wife! I 
am not that woman. As God hears me, I swear to you 
that I am not! But tell me, Robert, tell me: Do you love 
the image well enough to offer her the heart which you 


250 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


gave to the realitj'? Would you be content to win me for 
your wife, as you once hoped to win her?” 

“Content!” he cried out, in a voice of rapture. “Oh, 
Inez, you are all my world and all my heaven, dear! 
Could I ask more, if it were yours to give? My life holds 
only you, my queen, and image or reality— call yourself 
which you will — I love you, dear, ‘ fii’st, best, and over 
all the world!’ ” 

“And you would win me, Robert — win me for your 
wife?” 

“ Win you, dear, and hold the -world well lost, so that 
you alone were mine!” he answered, passionately. “ God 
made us for each other, dear, and night and day I pray 
that he will lead your heart to mine. Some day such a 
love as mine may work in your heart an echo which is 
mute to-day. Some day I may win and wear you, Inez, and 
when that day comes life will have nothing left to give 
me, since all its joys are mine !” 

For one moment she stood motionless — the color coming 
and going in her face, and her whole frame trembling; 
then, drooping her head, as though ashamed of usurping 
man’s prerogative: 

“Robert,” she said, “Robert, that day is now within 
your grasp. Take me to Glandore Court, grant me the 
one great favor that I ask at your hands, and if I fail to 
prove myself what I claim to be, in that, the hour which 
brings the downfall of mj’- delusion, I promise that I will 
become your — your Avife!” 

“ Inez!” — he sprung toward her Avith a sharp and sud- 
den cry, and took her unresisting form in his arms. 
“Inez, you mean it, dear? Oh, say it once again, my 
darling — say it AAdiile I hold you in these arms, my love.” 

“Take me to Glandore Court,” she repeated, huskily, 
“and if I fail to prove myself Loi'd Glandore’s grand- 
daughter, I AA ill become — your wife.” 

“I accept the terms — I accept the terms!” he cried out, 
Avith a laugh, so full of happiness that it seemed hyster- 
ical. “Oh, mother! mother! do you hear? Do you com- 
prehend? All that I have prayed for is mine at last. She 
Avill by my AAufe, mother— Inez will be my AA-ife.” 

Then he fell to kissing the bright golden head that 
drooped upon his breast, and in her pity for him, and her 
sorrow for that day Avhen there must come an aAvakening 
of Avhich he dreamed not noAv, Inez had not the heart to 
I’esist nor to rob him of this poor roAvard. 

Laughing and weeping and acting, as she herself put it, 
“ as though she AA^ere a happy old fool,” Margaret Hern- 
don came forward, and taking from her son’s arms the 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


251 


weak, frail girl he held, drew her down upon her own 
motherly old bosom and kissed her a dozen times. 

“ Oil, I am so happy, my dear, for his sake and for my 
own!” she said. “To think that I shall really have a 
daughter, and that that daughter should be you, Inez! 
Ah, I shall be the pi*oudest mother in the world, for who 
could have such noble children as mine?” 

Then she fell to laughing in a half-hysterical way— for 
she, too, saw but the one possible issue to tlie undertak- 
ing— and was so delighted with the happ> prospect that 
Inez had not the heart to blunt her joy by reminding her 
of liow the promise was given. 

So the affair was settled. It would take a fortnight, at 
least, for Robert to earn the money necessary to defray 
their traveling expenses— for, if only for proprieties’ sake, 
it was decided that his mother should accompany them — 
then, too, it could not reasonably be supposed that Inez 
Avould be strong enough to endure the fatigue of the 
journe}’, Avithout risking a relapse, if they attempted to 
start sooner; and at length, after much discussion, the 
important day was set, and just two weeks from that 
very morning was named as the time when they were to 
start for Glandore Court. 


CHAPTER LVI. 

“fire that is closest kept burns most of all.” 

They were not [unhappy for Inez, those tAvo weeks of 
waiting — indeed, in the after years of her life she often 
loolced back to them with a tender recollection as being 
among the brightest days and the sweetest experiences 
she had ever known, for each morning that brought her 
nearer to the da}”- of her departure, brought with it some 
tender act of Robert’s or his mother’s to endear to her 
this quiet life and peaceful home, Avhere the sanctity of 
honest toil, brightened by honest loA^e, clung as a benedic- 
tion, and made each morn round out to evening in ten- 
der harmoniousness and perfect peace. 

All day long Mrs. Herndon hummed to henself as she 
bustled about performing her household duties — and oc- 
casionally finding time to peep into Robert’s atelier, Avhere 
her son sat before his easel, Avhistling as he painted, or, 
Avhen Inez Avas Avith liim, carrjung on a happy conversa- 
tion Avith her as she sat in her deep, soft chair beside his 
artist’s stool, and AA’-atched him create the picture Avhich 
Avas to furnish the money for their journey — and all day 
long the doves cooed in the cote Robert had built for them 
in the noAv desolate garden of ttie little villa, as though 


252 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


they, too, enjoyed the perfect peace of this perfectly peace- 
ful home under the gray, Parisian sky. 

That she did not love this great, handsome, noble-hearted 
American Avho was working like a slave to gratify her 
Avish— and to marry him without loving him would be a 
crime against her womanhood and a wrong to him— Inez 
Catheron Avas painfully aAvare, and each day as the full 
depth and breadth of his love was made manifest to her 
there grew up Avithin her heart a great pity for him, a 
great sorrow, that in return for so much, she could give 
but so little, and gradually — so gradually that she knew 
not Avhen it first took shape — she began shrinking from 
tlie thought of that day Avhen his dream must be shattered 
by the reality, and this peaceful, perfect life end for her 
as Avell as for him. 

It Avas impossible not to be touched by his devotion, 
even though she could not return it, for each morning 
that Avas ushered in brought her some tender recollection 
of his love, Avhether it Avas but some verses clipped from a 
magazine, a simple floAver placed beside her plate, or some 
small offering of fruit Avhich he had purchased at the 
market-place during his early morning walk. 

His love seemed to fill the very atmosphere and make 
the sunshine seem brighter as it streamed in through the 
little diamond-paned AvindoAvs and flooded the atelier, and 
after aAvhile Inez took to spending all of the time there, 
just because it Avas so bright and because — Avell, because 
she knew that he liked to have her sit beside him Avhile he 
Avorked, and the least she could do was to make him as 
happy as it Avas in her poAver to do ! 

At least that Avas the Avay she reasoned Avith herself, 
mark you ! and surely she should be the best judge of her 
OAvn motives. 

But Robert took this spurious metal for real gold; 
Robert’s mother being older and Aviser, refrained from 
showing hoAv she took it, only that she found less time 
to peep into the atelier, noAvadays, and more Avork to do 
beloAV stairs — so much more in fact that she kept out of 
sight altogether and nothing but the pots, kettles and 
pans enjoyed her confidence regarding her motive for 
fluttering about the kitchen all day long Avhen she might 
just as Avell have taken her knitting up to her son’s studio 
and increased the small gathering there by one. 

At first Inez had remarked her protracted absence, and 
remonstrated Avith her for “Avorking herself to death,” 
but after awhile she greAv quite accustomed to being left 
Avith Robert all day long, and finally ceased to notice it, 
for Robert himself kept Jier thoughts occupied Avith his 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


253 


perennial good nature, and his constant allusion to the 
life they would lead when she had “ sold her wedding 
dower — ‘ La Fleur de Foret ’ — and they were all living 
together in a certain bijou villa which he had his eye 
upon, and which lay close to the outskirts of Paris in the 
prettiest little spot imaginable;” and between the dis- 
cussion of this happy prospect and the tender pity which 
his love had awakened in her heart, she really had no 
time to think of anything else. 

So the days slipped along and the dream went on, until 
the picture was finished and sent to its future owner. 
Somehow, it seemed to Inez as though it hurt her when she 
saw it go— as though it were part of herself; for had she 
not watched it grow beneath Robert’s brush? and the sight 
of the bare easel, when he removed the painting, sent a 
faint pang of regret through her heart, for it seemed like 
looking on a dead face and remembering the life and light 
which once had glorified it. 

But the picture went to its owner, the money came in 
return —the money which was to take her back to Glan- 
dore Court and the sumptuous life she had lived there; 
and yet when Robert came in and threw the roll of bank- 
notes into her lap, she was painfully conscious that she 
could not share his joy. For now this quiet, peaceful life 

was over forever, and Oh, the pity of it, the sorrow 

and the pity for Am— the end must come, and these dear 
old friends and this dear home come never again across 
the threshold of her life. 

Long and late into the last night she was to pass under 
the roof-tree of Rue de Anges, she lay upon her pillow 
staring into the darkness and thinking over her life dur- 
ing the past few weeks— trying to feel glad that she was 
going to Glandore; trying not to feel pained and distressed 
at the thought of leaving this humble little home; trying 
not to think of Robert’s grief nor to picture Robert’s face 
when the end should come, but failing so miserably, that 
when at last she dropped asleep, her head and heart alike 
ached, and her pillow was wet with tears. 

They were to start for Calais at seven o’clock in the 
morning, in order to catch the noon packet for Dover, but 
long before that hour Inez was up and dressed, and was 
wandering about from room to room, taking a last look at 
the dear, familiar objects, and silently bidding them fare- 
well. 

“Oh! let me see the dear old house once more, mother,” 
she murmured, when all was over, and they were seated 
in the fiacre which Robert had secured to convey them to 
the railway station. “ How pretty it is— so much prettier 


254 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


than I thought at first. Oh, mother, mother ! it does seem 
so hard to leave it.” 

Then drawing down her veil to hide the tears which 
flooded her eyes, she sunk back in her seat as the fiacre 
rolled away to the depot. 

The journey to Calais was an uneventful one, and by 
noon the little party was standing on the deck of the pack- 
et, and watching the shores of La Belle France fall into 
the distance as the vessel steamed over the short, choppy 
waves of the English Channel. 

It was a bright, sunshiny day, and the deck was crowd- 
ed with passengers— so crowded, in fact, that a gentleman, 
who was trying to make his way to a spot where he could 
place a steamer-chair for a frail, wasted creature, who 
clung feebly to his arm, and tottered after him, was jostled 
by the throng, and losing his balance, fell heavily against 
Robert. 

“ I beg your pardon!” he exclaimed, with an accent dis- 
tinctly American, as he regained his footing. ” I trust I 
did not hurt you, sir?” 

“Not in the least, I assure you!” responded Robert, 
good-humoredly. “The vessel rolls so heavily that it is 

difficult for one to keep his feet with ” Here his eyes 

met those of the stranger, a look of pleasure overspread 
his face, and then: ” Whj'-, Mr. Narkland!” he exclaimed 
delightedly. “Upon my word, this is an unexpected 
pleasure !’ ’ 

“Eh? What? Well, upon my word, if it isn’t young 
Bob Herndon.” 

“The very same, sir, and glad to run across you again. 
Mother, don’t you recognize this gentleman? It is Mr. 
Narkland — Mr. Maverick Narkland, the lawyer from Pitts- 
burg. The gentleman who bought my first picture.” 

“ Dear me! so it is, Robert!” exclaimed Mrs. Herndon, 
as she bustled forward. “ I am very— very happy to meet 
you again, Mr. Narkland. But what in the world brings 
you to Europe?” 

“Business, dear Mrs. Herndon — business with a sick 
client; and — oh, I beg a thousand pardons ” — as a nervous 
hand grasping his arm for support recalled his thoughts 
to his companion, “ may I place a chair here for this lady, 
Bob? It seems as clear a place as any.” 

“Yes, place it here, by all means, sir!” responded Rob- 
ert. Then, in an undertone: “Is that the client?” he 
added, as Mr. Narkland arranged the steamer-chair, and 
assisted the lady to become seated. 

“ Yes,” returned Mr. Narkland in the same tone. “ Had 
00 end of a bother in finding her, too. Big American es- 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


255 


tate fell into my hands to settle; had to trace the ‘next 
of kin;’ found her an invalid living in an out-of-the-way 
town in France; and so feeble that, by George! I had to 
come over and take hei- to ” 

He stopped short, and a pallor crept over his face ; for 
at that moment Inez had turned, and the wind blowing 
back her veil, revealed her features to him. 

“Good Heaven! what a resemblance!” he gasped. “If 
the dead could return to life, I would believe that Inez 
Catheron stood before me !’ ’ 

At the mention of that name, Inez came sharply for- 
ward. 

“Oh, sir! lam Inez Catheron!” she exclaimed, excitedly. 
“ I— I have never seen you before, but if you know aught 
of me or my people ” 

“ I was Kingdon Catheron’s solicitor at the time he was 
murdered!” interrupted Mr. Narkland, “and I know the 
history of the family from A to Z. Are you then one of 
the poor little innocents who were orphaned by that bru- 
tal murder which ” 

He stopped short, remembering the promise he had 
given Lady Morfoi*d. 

“I am the one — the only one!” responded Inez, excit- 
edly. “ I know very little of my father’s history ; because 
— because soon after his death, my aunt. Lady Clara Mor- 
ford, brought me to Glandoi’e Court, where I ” 

The sentence was fated never to be finished ; for with a 
cry like the wailing of a wounded animal, Mr. Narkland’s 
sick client suddenly sat bolt upright in her chair, and 
reached out her hands to Inez. 

“Lady Clara Morford!” she repeated in a voice of in- 
tense agitation. “Ah, Heaven! am I to hear something 
at last? Sir Robert Morford ’s wife was named Clara— 
so he said, and Sir Robert Morford was his most intimate 
friend. Oh, speak, my dear young lady! speak, in 
Heaven’s name! Did you, oh, did you ever hear of a 
man called Norris Hay?” 

“Lord Norris Hay, of Eastwood, do you mean, ma- 
dame?” responded Inez. “Yes, I know who you mean, 
and have seen him often.” 

Again that wild cry sounded, and again the woman’s 
white hand outstretched. 

“Oh, tell me of him! tell me of him!” she panted, ex- 
citedly. “ Heartless and cruel as he was, now that a fort- 
une has come to me, and, in position, if not in birth, I 
shall be his equal, he shall do me justice, come what may! 
Tell me whei'e he is — tell me where I may find him! I will 
not leave England until I have had my I'ights!” 


256 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


“Lord Norris Hay is dead, madame!” returned Inez. 
“ He was killed on the hunting field four years ago; and 

his widow, Lady Blanche ” 

“His widow!” shrieked the woman, in intense agita- 
tion. “ Take me to her — take me to any woman who dare 
claim that title! How can she be his widow when I was 
his wife? I— I — the woman he deserted like the coward 
he was!” 


CHAPTER LVII. 

“ ART THOU A SPIRIT OF HEALTH OR GOBLIN DAJVI’D?” 

There are some pictures which the pen may never hope 
to reproduce, some scenes which language is unable to 
paint with even the faintest likeness to the reality; and 
that scene in the conservatory at Glandore Court was one 
of them. 

Shocked and startled by this complete overthrow of her 
schemes, and horrified by the words spoken by faithful 
old Martha Boggs, Lady Blanche Hay shot one despairing 
glance at her miserable father, and then dropped down 
upon a rustic seat, trembling, powerless, dumb! 

“Oh! that takes the wind out of your sails, doesn’t it? 
you wicked, connivin’ little hussy you!” exploded anew 
tlie irate Martha Boggs. “ You didn’t think as you’d be 
come up within this way, did you, mum? You didn’t think 
as you'd ever live to be called Maggie Talford again; 
’cause why — you didn’t know as there was a person livin’ 
at Glandore Court as knowed j’our mother and your 
wicked old grandmother, and that there miserable, 
sneakin’ ole villain, your father! Oh, you needn’t scowl 
at me. lilr. Mark Talford, or whatever you may call 
yourself nowadays. You’d ought to be took out and 
hung, feet uppermost, for a month o’ Sundays! that’s 
what you’d ought, you wicked, ivicked old villain you ! 
and if I had the sayin’ o’ what ’Id be done to the pair o’ 
you, I’d take that darter o’ yourn by the hair of her 
head, and ” 

“Hush, Boggs, hush!” interrupted Lord Glandore at 
this juncture. “ Let me deal with these people — you at- 
tend to Lady Keith.” 

He strode forward as he spoke, and pausing before Lady 
Blanche, looked her squarely in the face. 

“So this is the creature you really ai’e at heart, is it? 
he said sternly. “ Truthful as I knew Boggs to be, I 
could scarcely credit her woi-ds when she brought news 
of this wicked conspiracy, and told me what she had over- 
heard in the library. You snake — you lying, crawling. 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


257 


slanderous snake — to eat my salt and spread a lie like this 
against the purity and honor of my grandchild. Oh, you 
shall suffer for this, woman ! It would be a crime to" let 
you go free and not warn the world against you, and be- 
fore I will allow you to imperil the peace and soil the 
reputation of other women as you would have soiled Lady 
Keitli’s, I will prosecute you for slander, and blazon your 
infamy from end to end of the kingdom, till honest folks 
may know you for the thing you are, and every door be 
closed against you to the end of your miserable life!” 

My lady set her teeth hard, and a bitterly malicious 
look floshed across her pretty, insolent face. 

No need to deny the accusation, no hope of recovering 
the ground she had lost. 

The game was over — that she knew — and there was 
nothing left her but to laj'" down her mask and face the 
ordeal openly. 

“You had better nof adopt such a course as that, my 
Lord Glandore,” she said, through her shut teeth. “You 
have learned enough to know that I can be a dangerous 
enemy, and to expose me as you so amiably propose may 
involve the reputation of another. You must catch your 
hare before you begin to skin it, my loi'd— it’s much the 
surer plan!” 

“What do you mean?” exclaimed the old earl, glanc- 
ing as he spoke at Lord Keith, who had now dragged him- 
self to his feet and stood clinging to the arm of his valet 
for support. “Is it possible that you can still believe 
that your slanderous lies can have any weight with the 
man whose happiness j'ou have almost wrecked? Keith, 
look up and tell this Jezebel what you think of her now!” 

For answer, his lordship glanced at Lady Blanche, 
and the horror and contempt of that glance passes all 
telling. 

“Oh, be sure that the feeling is mutual, my lord,” re- 
turned her ladyship, laughing derisively, yet flushing in 
spite of herself’ under the loathing embodied in his look. 
“ I learned to hate you that night at Cam Euth, and I 
haven’t forgotten the lesson, even though I have failed 
upon the very threshold of its successful issue. You hear 
what this amiable old party threatens to do to me, don’t 
you? Tell him how dangerous it may prove, and advise 
him not to do it. You won’t, eh?”— with a thin, jeering 
laugh. “ Then let the pleasant task be mine. Sue me for 
slander at your peril, my lord — expose me if you dare — 
for, as pitilessly as you deal with me, I will deal with you 
in return. Take a fool’s advice, and let my father and 
me go free; for. in the hour you attempt to prosecute me. 
I will ruin Lady Keith’s reputation. She has admitted 


258 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


some few things to her husband which would not look well 
in the public prints.” 

“ It is a lie !” exclaimed the old earl, indignantly. “ You 
have trumped up a pretty story upon the strength of the 
letter you advised me not to mention, and then stole from 
me to consummate your own devilish work. But if you 
hope to frighten me off, abandon that hope now and for- 
ever. Your horrible attempt to fasten a slander upon 
Lady Keith, by vainly endeavoring to connect her name 
with that of some low hound of a gypsy ” 

” Is it a vain endeavor, my lord?” broke in her ladyship, 
with a faint, purring laugh. “7s it a slander, after all? 
Ask her husband if she has not admitted it to him, and 
then ask that man— Gypsy Jock — what he knows of Lady 
Keith.” 

The earl’s face flushed the deep, sullen crimson of 
stormy wrath, then slowly paled, and, turning, he faced 
Lord Keith. 

“ Why are you silent at such a time as this, Keith?” he 
demanded, hoarsely. “ Have you forgotten the tie which 
binds you to that poor, stricken creature lying there sense- 
less, and, therefore, unable to defend her name L-om the 
venom of this woman’s tongue? Have you no ears to hear 
—no heart to feel— no voice to lift for the honor of your 
wife, that you stand here silent, and this Jezebel defame 
her? Do you hear what she says of you%— 0 ¥ you? — and 
you are speechless still. She says that your wife has con- 
fessed these foul charges in your presence. Tell her that 
she lies, Keith.” 

“ If he can, you mean, my lord!” cut in her ladyship, 
with one of her horrible, soundless laughs. 

“ Tell her that she lies, Keith!" exclaimed the old earl, 
his angry voice thundering with passion. “ Do you hear 
Avhat I say? Tell that creature that she lies!” 

Pale almost to ghastliness. Lord Keith raised his head 
and then slowly shook it. 

“ I— I cannot!” he answered, in a choking voice. “I 
cannot, because she speaks the truth!” 

“ Wiatr 

“I repeat it: she tells the truth! Inez confessed it to 
me!” 

My lady’s tinkling laughter Avas the only sound. 

Dumb Avith amazement, the old earl fell back a step and 
stared at Lord Keith. There Avas one second of utter 
silence, then: 

“ For God’s sake, Keith, Avhat horrible juggle is this?” 
he exclaimed, hoarsely. “ Inez confessed to you that she 
once lived among gypsies, and Avith that man?” 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


259 


“Yes,” he answered, huskily. “As God hears me— 
yes!” 

, Again that utter silence fell. 

The earl glanced at Lord Keith, then at the pale, deathly 
face of Zillah— Avho was now slowly reviving — then at 
Gypsy Jock— and finally, with a cry like the sound of a 
roaring brute, he snatched a gun from one of the game- 
keepers and leveled it straight at Jock’s head. 

“Take back your lies, you rascal!” he roared. “Take 
them back this instant, or as surely as there is a God 
above us I’ll pull the trigger.” 

But Jock never flinched, and the color never even for 
one second left his cheek. 

“Shoot, if it please you!” he said, in a voice of sullen 
defiance. “ As well have my body slain by you, after my 
soul has been torn by him!" — glancing bitterly at Lord 
Keith. “ lie has left me nothing to live for since he stole 

her from me, and If you’ll only kill him, first. I’ll let 

you tear me piecemeal, if you will!” 

“ Take back your lies !” vociferated Lord Glandore. “ No 
dog of a gypsy shall ever lift his voice against my grand- 
child, and live!” 

“ Your grandchild!” repeated Jock, with a sullen scowl. 
“What have I said against your grandchild? Why 
should I speak against Miss Catlieron? I never 
saw her in my life. And what wrong am I guilty of 
against you, or against your grandchild, that you fly at me 
like a tiger for simply loving that girl there? I have as 
much right to love her as any infernal aristoci-at in the 
kingdom; and until that coward— Lord Keith — stole her 
from me, and tauglit her to hate the gypsies with whom 
she passed the happiest days of her life ” 

“You lie — you lie — you lie!” broke in Lord Glandore, 
excitedly. “ Miss Catheron never herded with such cattle 
as you — never in her life!” 

“Who’s speaking of Miss Catheron? I’m talking of 
that girl— there !” 

“And that girl is my grandchild — Lord Keith’s wife, 
you rascal!” 

“It’s a lie!” responded Jock. “ Do you think you can 
make a fool of me like this? I don’t know what game 
you’re trying to play. Lord Glandore, but I do know that 
you can’t hoodwink me! That girl’s no more your grand- 
child than I am— she's Zillah, the gyps}’-, Zillah, the spirit 
child, and a daughter of the Romany race— ask her if jmu 
won’t believe my word — ask her and see if she’ll deny it 
before me!” 

Lord Glandore had just opened his lips to rnake a just- 


260 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


ly indignant response, but at that moment a wailing, 
heart-broken cry rung suddenly forth, there was the 
rustle of a silken robe, the patter of a hasty footstep, and 
Zillah’s figure came between him and Gypsy Jock. 

“ Don’t shoot — don’t shoot, for God’s sake!” she panted 
nervously. “Oh, let all the sin and all the remorse be 
mine. Don’t take a human life for my sake. Lord Glan- 
dore! Spare this man — spare him for the sake of a 
guilty creature who is not worth the sacrifice you would 
make!” 

“ Inez!” 

“Spare him— spare him, I beg of you!” she cried out 
wildly. “Spare him, my lord, and listen to the tale he 
tells— listen, but, oh, let me not be here, for life is done 
for me !’ ’ 

With that she seized the barrel of the gun and forced it 
up so violently that it was discharged by the action and 
sent its bullet crashing through the crystal dome of the 
conservatory, then, with one last heart -rung cry, she 
darted to the open door, dashed out into the darkness, and 
so— was gone ! 

For just a moment the old earl paused— startled, irreso- 
lute, overcome— then flinging the gun from him, he darted 
after her. 

“Come back!” he cried. “Come back and refute this 
slander — come back and face this man!” 

He knew only the direction she had taken, for in the 
darkness he could see nothing; and dashing aHer her, he 
raced along the footpath, rounded the angle of the house, 
and so collided with a woman’s figure which in the faint 
light which penetrated the crystal walls of the conserva- 
tory, he saw and recognized. 

“Grandpa!” she had time to utter only that one word 
ere he caught her in his frantic grasp and dragged her to 
the door. 

“ Come back !” he roared. “Come back and face that 
man, Inez, and deny his awful charge!” 

He gave her no chance to reply. 

The open door was near, and whirling her through it, 
he set her face to face with Gypsy Jock. 

“Tell him he lies.” he roared, in a voice of furious pas- 
sion. “ Tell him that he lies, and swear to me that you 
have never seen his devil’s face before!” 

“ I never have — I never have!” came back the swift re- 
sponse. “Oh, grandpa, grandpa, do you know me after 
all? Robert! Mother! Mr. Narkland! Come in; come 
in and see me vindicated!” 

With a sharp and sudden cry the old earl turned— the^ 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 261 

all turned — and glanced at the woman who stood before 
them. 

It was Inez Catheron’s voice they heard; Inez Cath- 
eron’s face they saw, but not as they had seen it a mo- 
ment since. 

That Inez Catheron who had darted from them and fled 
into the darkness, was clad in a dinner-dress of glistening 
white silk; this Inez Catheron Avho stood before them now 
— who spoke to them with the same voice, looked at them 
with the same eyes, confronted them with the same face 
— this Inez Catheron was garbed in a gray cloth costume 
that was stained and soiled with travel. 


CHAPTER LVIII. 

THE TANGLED THREADS. 

For one second there was silence of the most intense 
chai'acter, as they all stood and stared in blank amaze- 
ment at that dark-robed figure which stood there in tl)e 
light of the conservatoiy lamps, looking at them with 
Lady Keith’s face and Lady Keith’s eyes; then there was 
the sound of hurried footsteps coming up the walk, up 
the stone terrace, and through the open doorway, and 
presently Robert Herndon, looking pale and excited, 
dashed into the conservatory. 

“ Inez, my darling, who was it that seized you so rudely 
and dragged j’ou away?” he exclaimed, as he hastened to 
her side. " You were so eager to enter by the rear door, 
when you heard the sound of voices and saw the lights 
streaming from the windows of the conservatory, that 
you had darted away from me before I divined your in- 
tention, dear, and you were still so far in advance of me 
when I saw some man dash forward and lay violent hands 
upon you that I could not distinguish the fellow’s face. 
Who was it, dear? Show me the man, that I may teach 
him what it costs to deal roughly with youP’’ 

“It w'as grandpapa — it was Lord Glandore,” she an- 
swered, with a half hysterical laugh. “See! there he 
is, Robert — tliere 1 there ! and my claim is established at 
last, for he has recognized me, Robert — do you hear— 
do you understand? — recognized me and called me by 
name!” 

“Recognized you!” 

The words dropped huskily from Robert’s lips, and a 
sensation of utter despair swept across him; but as he 
glanced about and saw that, wdiile there was a look of 
consternation upon the faces of all, there w’as nothing 
akin to such joy and such excitement as he felt would bd 


262 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


natural if Inez’s claim were true, and she had ccine back 
to the arms of those who loved her; and attributing her 
last words to yet another freak of her distorted imagina- 
tion, he took heart again. 

But in that momentary look which he had cast over the 
throng about him. tlie artist had seen and i-ecognized 
two faces, and striding forward quickly, extended his 
hand. 

“I am pleased to meet you again. Lord Keith, even 
though it be under most distressing circumstances!” he 
exclaimed. “You recognize me, do you not, sir? lam 
Robert Herndon, the man who painted ‘ La Fleur de 
Foret!’ ” 

“I recognize you — j'es!” returned his lordship, as he 
gripped the American’s hand, “ and— although I cannot 
luiderstand what strange freak of fate brings you to 
Glandore Court, and at this dreadful time of all others, 
you — you are welcome, sir, since you can, perhaps, aid 
us in clearing away much that is mysterious iii a truly 
horrible affair. A fearful charge has been brought against 
my — against Lady Keith, Mr. Herndon ” 

“Against Lady Keith!” repeated Robert, glancing in- 
quiringly at Lady Blanche Hay — whom he recognized as 
the woman to whom his lordship had been so attentive in 
those far-off days at Cam Ruth — and then, glancing back 
at Inez, and interpreting Lord Keith’s remark as apply- 
ing to the claim she had made — “ I am sure that her lady- 
ship will forgive her accuser when she understands the 
sorrowful truth, and — tell me, sir, is that the Earl of 
Glandore standing there and staring at my poor deluded 
darling?” 

Until this moment Lord Glandore had not spoken. He 
stood like one under a stupor or a spell, and stared in 
wonder at the miraculous cliange which appeared to have 
been wrought in regard to the clothing worn by his grand- 
daughter; but now, catching Robert’s final words, and 
echoing that startled cry with which Lord Keith himself 
greeted them, he faced about suddenly and scowled upon 
the young artist. 

“ Your darling, you infernal rascal!” he roared. “ How 
dare you apply a term of endearment to one who has 
nothing in common with you or yours — whoever you may 
be? Have you too joined in this conspiracy to injiu’e the 
reputation of my grandchild? Speak! or it will be worse 
for you!” 

"'Sir!" exclaimed Robert, clinching his hands and fac- 
ing the old earl with a look of indignation. 

“Speak, do you hear me, you scoundrel?” vociferated 


THE KING'S daughters. 


263 


Ijis lordship, passionately. “I want to know what part 
you have been chosen to fill in this slanderous game of 
Lady Blanche Hay’s, and if you do not soon loosen your 
tongue, and that, too, voluntarily, by the Lord Harry, 
I’ll prove to you that the Leith jail has room enough for 
you as well as your fellow-conspirators, and ” 

“Stop where you are, my friend!” broke in Robert, ex- 
citedly; “you are in your own house, it is true, but if 
common politeness does not teach you to respect a guest — 
howsoever unwelcome — I will teach you that you must 
and shall respect me!" 

“Robert!” interposed Inez, plucking his sleeve and look- 
ing up into his face with a glance of wild entreaty, “ Rob- 
ert, for Heaven’s sake do not harm him. If you cannot 
remember that he is grandpa, oh, at least recollect that 
you ai-e young and strong, and he ” 

“ He trades upon his age and infirmity as a barrier from 
behind which he hopes to insult me with impunity, does 
he?” interrupted Robert indignantl}’". “It is true that 
your years offer you some protection ” — this to Lord Glan- 
dore— “ but they do not give you license to insult me, and 
if you repeat the offense, you’re liable to have your nose 
pulled, my man!” 

“Your man, you impertinent puppy!” roared the old 
earl, “ your lord, you mean — I have a title by which it is 
customary for the rabble to address me!” 

“If, by the rabble, you mean your hirelings, let them 
address you as ‘my lord,’ for that I never will!” respond- 
ed Robert, drawing himself up, and throwing back his 
head with a trick like that of a defiant stag. “I am an 
American, sir — a son of the soil, born in a land where all 
men are equal, and nobility belongs only to those wdio win 
it by uprightness and honesty. I call no man ‘my lord.’ 
That title I reserve for Him who rules above, and who 
alone has the right to claim homage and reverence at a 
freeman’s hands. I was prepared to be insulted, sir. when 
I came to this place, but my cause has been a just one, 
and I can bear even your abuse, so that I reach the goal 
for which I strive. 

“It is not the first time you have treated me to insult, 
and my efforts in behalf of this dear, afflicted girl with 
scorn and indignation — born of your fancied right to be 
held as of the earth’s elect, and so far above those whoso 
only title is the honest one of man, that for one of these to 
address an inquiry to you is an act of presumption amount- 
ing almost to impudence. I repeat, sir, this is not the first 
time you have repulsed me with scorn, but— I assure you 
it shall be the last. I am Robert Herndon, sir, the man 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


S6l 

who addreissed you that letter of inquiry— which you so 
curtly answered— regarding a poor creature avIio was the 
victim of an hallucination in reference to tlie fate of your 
granddaughter, Lord Keith’s wife; your curt response to 
that letter was at once ungentlemanly and unjust; and if 
after such an epistle I again venture "to thrust myself upon 
your notice, understand that I do not do it willingly, but 
that it was to the interest of Inez ” 

“ Lady Keith, sir !” cut in Lord Glandore. “ You are 
too familiar.” 

“ And you too hasty!” responded Robert. “ It is not of 
Lady Keith I speak, sir. I refer to this dear girl beside 
me.” 

‘‘And I, also, refer to her I As my granddaughter, and 
as Lord Keith’s wife, she has every right to be addressed 
by the title which ” 

‘‘Your ‘granddaughter!’ ‘Lord Keith’s wife!’ This 
young lady!” exclaimed Robert, with a derisive laugh. 
‘‘You must be mad, sir, to make such an assertion as that, 
and particularly ” — this with a glance toward Lady 
Blanche— ” when Lady Keth herself is present. If your 
memory is so wretched, and your sight so poor, that you 
do not recognize your own grandchild when you see her, 
permit me to direct your attention to the lady standing 
opposite. If the dear girl is Lord Keith’s wife, will you 
have the goodness to tell me who is the lady there? 

‘‘ She is Lady Keith, sir, or else a memory, which never 
failed me yet, has played me a shabby trick at last.” 

‘‘(S/ieLady Keith?” repeated the old earl, indignantl^^ 
‘‘ That woman sprung from my race? That woman my 
grandchild? She is Lady Blanche Hay, you blockhead, 
and your boasted memory has played you a trick at 
last!” 

A sudden pallor swept over Robert’s face, and his eyes 
flashed nervously toward Lord Keith. 

‘‘Is that true?” he exclaimed huskily. ‘‘That is the 
woman with whom your name was coupled at Cam Ruth, 

and Isn’t she Miss Catheron, sir? Isn’t that the 

woman you married?” 

‘‘ No,” responded his lordship confusedly. ‘‘I — I had 
reasons for wishing to deceive j'ou when I allowed you 
to believe that, Herndon. This woman is what the earl 
has called her — Lady Blanche Hay — and nothing to me — 
nothing! not even a friend !” 

‘‘Not your wife!” exclaimed Robert, with deep, agita- 
tion— ‘‘not your wife, and yet you— you married Miss 
Inez Catheron, did you not? You married the Earl of 
Glandore’s grajidchiid, and, if she, if that woman is not 
your wife, who then is?” 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


265 


“The one who stands beside you!” responded his lord- 
ship. “ Ask her, if you doubt my words. She will not 
deny that, I fancy, since the honorable name I gave into 
her keeping ’’ 

“It is false!” cut in Robert, e.xcitedly. “This girl 
your wife? This girl the bride who was with you at the 
Hotel de Paris? My God! Have you all gone mad, or 
have I? Inez— Inez, for the love of Heaven, dear, tell 
them who you are!” 

“They have answered for me — they have answered for 
me, Robert!” responded Inez, with a burst of tears. “ See! 
see; I am vindicated at last! You would not believe it, but 
now the truth is revealed. Call in your mother — call in 
Mr. Narkland, and let them see me acknowledged as what 
I truly am!” 

“ Inez!” 

“ Finish the name, Robert — finish the name, for it is 
mine by right, you see. I am Inez Catheron ; I am the 
Earl of Glandore’s granddaughter, but not your wife, after 
all, Alaric — not your wife, after all!” 

A cry fluttered throng the entire gathering as she made 
that startling declaration — a cry in Avhich my Lady 
Blanche Hay and her rascally father joined, for now, but 
not until now did the truth come home to them. 

“Lost— all lost!” murmured Lady Blanche, under her 
breath, as she dropped helplessly into a seat and stared, 
•with dull, lifeless eyes, at the girl who stood by Robert 
Herndon’s side. “It is not Zillah— it is Inez— and all is 
over now !” 


CHAPTER LIX. 

“down, specter, down! i’ll not believe !” 

Confusion reigned. 

Robert’s voice was the first to break the spell. 

“In the name of Heaven, will somebody tell me what 
juggle is this?” he gasped. “Have you all gone mad? 
Do you all share the mania of this poor, deluded girl? 
She is not Inez Catheron, I tell you; for if Inez Catheron 
is the woman Lord Keith married, I swear that this is not 
she— this cannot be she— and I have evidence to prove it?” 

“What evidence can you bring to dispute my word 
when I tell you it is true, Herndon?” exclaimed Lord 
Keith. “Do you think that Lord Glandore can be mis- 
taken in his own grandchild? Do you think that I can be 
deceived in my own wife? Has she not herself acknowl- 
adged that she is Inez Catheron? And Inez Catheron was 
the girl I married.” 


266 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


“ You did not— you did not!” protested Inez, excitedly. 
“ You were duped and deceived, Alaric. You did not 
marry me. Before Heaven I swear it— you did not marry 
me!” 

“Inez!” The voice was Lord Glandore’s, and as he 
spoke, he stepped sharply forward and gripped her arm. 
“Ill the name of Heaven what folly is this? What do 
you hope to gain by such an absurd deln ration as this?” 

‘‘Ah! what, indeed?” exclaimed Lord Keith, hollov/ly. 
‘‘ Is it some new trick by which you hope to clear your- 
self of tlie horrible things which you confessed to me to- 
night, 01’ ” 

‘‘Confessed to you to-night, Alaric? I have confessed 
nothing to you — nothing ! Plow could I when I was not 
here?” 

‘‘Oh, cease, cease, in pity’s name!” he cried otit, with 
a strident laugh. ‘‘I have been such a blind, besotted 
fool in your hands that I do not blame you for imagining 
you can still gull me; but as for the others — as for your 
aunt, your grandfather, and all — all who are about us— 
oh! have you the audacity to think that you can also gull 
them by this tomfoolery? If it suits you to deny now 
what you confessed but a few minutes since, do so; but, 
oh! in Heaven’s name, do not be absurd enough to think 
that you can make us believe that we were all victims of 
a delusion, and did not see you when you stood here before 
us.” 

‘‘But I tell you I was hot here, Alaric— I swear that 
I was not!” 

“ ‘Methinks the lady doth protest too much!’” he 
quoted, with a smile of contempt. ‘‘Plave y'ou not al- 
ready sworn that you are not my whfe?” 

‘‘And both statements are true — both — upon my word 
of honor! Oh, will you not let me explain this terrible 
mistake? I am no man’s wife, Alaric, much less yours. 
How could I be, when I was in France at the time j*ou 
were married — in France, and the inmate of a mad- 
house?” 

‘‘Oh. cease — cease, in pity’s name! You have perjured 
yourself enough as it is, without adding that bold lie to 
the list!” 

‘‘ It is not a lie — it is true, sir; and if you will not take 
her word, you 7 nust take mine!” exclaimed Robert at this 
juncture. "I. mj-self, rescued her from a private mad- 
house on the Pampeau Rond, near Fontainbleu, and for 
nearly six weeks she has been lying ill— under my mother’s 
care — at the house in Paris, where you visited me. Oh. 
do you not recollect what I said to you about the original 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


S67 


of ‘La Fleur de Foret,’ Lord Keith? I told you I would 
search until I found her, and I have kept my "word. This 
is she, sir— this is the beautiful gypsy I saw"that night in 
Wales.” 

“No, Robert, no; I am Inez Catheron, and not a gypsy, 
and I never was in Wales in my life. Lord Glandore will 
swear to that. Won’t you, grandpapa?” 

Lord Glandore made no response. Indeed he scarcely 
heard, for all his attention was now given to Robert 
Herndon. 

‘‘And you say that Lady Keith has been an inmate of 
your home for the past six weeks?” he said, presently. 

‘‘No, not Lady Keith, but this dear girl beside me!” re- 
sponded Robert. ‘‘I say it, and can prove it, sir — prove 
it by the aid of witnesses. When I rescued her from the 
madhouse, I found her possessed of a strange hallucina- 
tion. She imagined herself the betrothed of Lord Keith, 
imagined that she Avas Miss Inez Catheron of Glandore 
Court, and that she had been abducted by some persons of 
Avhose identity she Avas ignorant, and ” 

A strange, excited cry broke from Inez’s lips at this 
juncture, and creeping closer to Robert, she nervously 
clutched his arm Avith one hand, and leveled the other at 
Marco, the gypsy. 

‘‘That is one of them !” she cried out excitedly. 
“Robei't! Robert! that is one of the men Avho abducted 
me. Oh, grandpa, grandpa, believe Avhat I am telling you 
is the trutli. . That is one of the men Avho stole me away 
from you, upon the night of the private theatricals. It — 
it Avas Avhile I Avas dressing for the second act that some 
one brought me a letter. It purported to come from 
Alaric, and I belieA^ed it because I recognized his Avriting. 
If Martha Boggs is here, she Avill tell you that Avhat I say 
about the letter is true.” 

‘‘That I Avill, my lambie!” exclaimed Martha Boggs, as 
she bustled forAvard. ‘‘ I Avas there Avhen Springer fetched 
it to the room.” 

‘‘Which it Avas Lady Blanche Hay as gave it tome, 
Martha,” supplemented Springer, briskly. ‘‘I Avas car- 
ryin’ an armful o’ costumes for the play-actin’ at the time, 
Avhen she came on me in the hall av ay and poked the letter 
in my hand, sayin’ I Avas to give it to Miss Inez, and to tell 
her as it Avas from Lord Keith !” 

‘‘And that letter!” broke in Lord Keith, excitedly. 
“Speak, Inez, Avhat did that letter say?” 

“It bade me come at once to the east Avicket, as y'ou 
Avished to see me upon a matter of life and death. The 
signature Avas blotted out— as though you had upset the 


26S 


THE HINGES DAVOHTEUS. 


ink bottle in your haste. I lost no time in going to the place 
designated, but when I ari-ived there, Alaric, I found in- 
stead of you. that man who stands there, and Avith him 
two others. They threw themselves upon me, and clap- 
ping a drugged handkerchief over my face, dragged me 
to a vehicle and thrust me in. and after that all is blank 
until I awoke and found myself in the asylum from which 
Kobert rescued me. As he has told you, he took me to 
his mother, and I have been in her charge from that time 
to this!” 

“And this woman who claims to have been at your side 
for six Aveeks.” exclaimed Lord Glandore, excitedly. 
“The mother of this man; Avhere is she, Inez? I Avant to 
see her and hear from her lips Avhat proof she can bring 
to establish this hodge-podge of mysteries and lies!” 

“ My mother, sir, is somewhere in the grounds,” said 
Robert. “We came from Calais this morning — Inez and 
I— in company Avith her and my friend Mr. Narkland, 
Avho Avas formerly solicitor to the late Mr. Kingdou 
Catheron. He is much interested in this affair— both he 
and a client Avho is traveling Avith him, and begged to be 
alloAved to come Avith us to Glandore Court. They should 
have put in an appearance before this, for Ave were all 
coming up the Oak Walk in company, Avhen Inez suddenly 
broke aAvay and rushed toward this place. When I saw 
her struggling Avith somebody Avho Avas trying to drag her 
aAvay, I naturally rushed after her, and it may be that 
my mother and her companions either lost their Avay or 
are aAvaiting for my return!” 

“ Good Heaven ! Is this a dream or are we all mad, 
Keith?” exclaimed the old earl excitedl}". “Do you hear 
Avhat this man says? He is trying to convince me that 
Inez Avas coming to the house at the lime I rushed out 
and seized her. Coming to the house, Avhen you saw, 
Avhen Ave all saAV— that I rushed out to overtake her as she 
left it!” 

“ When I left it,” repeated Inez, brokenly. “ Oh, grand- 
pa! grandpa! won’t you believe me? I didn’t leave it; I 
couldn't leave it Avhen I Avasn’t here!” 

“You Avere here!” he ansAvered sternly. “God alono 
knows Avhat reason you have for SAvearing to such a false- 
hood ; but this I tell you — ymu were standing here, dressed 
in a Avhite gOAvn, and Avhen you rushed out of that door- 
Avay to escape the charges brought against you ; charges — 
Avhich God pity us both ! — I uoav believe must have some 
shadoAv of truth in them, since you have taken this des- 
perate step to choke off the subject and elude inquiry, 
Avhen you did this I folio Aved you, and then ” 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


269 


What then? 

His lordship never mentioned it, for at this critical stage 
of affairs the sound of a woman’s excited outcries echoed 
up the garden walk, the noise of a woman’s flying feet 
pattered up the steps and across the terrace, and almost 
at the same moment: 

“ Robert, Robert ! thank Heaven I liave found you at 
last!” exclaimed Mrs. Herndon, as she entered in the door- 
way of the conservatory. “I have been looking for you 
everywhere, my son; and, oh, ichy are you lingering here 
when w(} need you so much? Come, quickly ! come quick- 
ly ! something strange and terrible has happened to 
Inez 1” 

''Happened to Inez, mother V' 

" Yes, dear, yes; and j’ou must come to her quickly. 
Mr. Narkland and I stumbled across her lying face down- 
ward in the path, and in a dead swoon. And the strangest 
thing of all is that she is all dressed in white silk, and 
looks ” 

A scream brought the sentence to an abrupt close, for, 
even as she spoke, she turned and saw, the real Inez Cath- 
eron standing before her. 

“Oh. Robert, Robert!” she panted, falling back .against 
his body, and catching him with two frantic hands, “ what 
does it mean, dear, what does it mean? Inez is /tere and 
Inez is there, and if I am not going mad and mistaking a 
phantom for a reality, they must be two separate and dis- 
tinct women, but like enough for one!” 

“Tell us where she is! tell us where she is!” exclaimed 
Lord Glandore. 

Then, having obtained the necessary directions, he sent 
the servants scurrying away toward the Oak Walk, and 
two minutes later Lord Keith and Maverick Narkland — 
bearing between them the motionless figure of Zillah, and 
surrounded by a pack of servants who huddled together 
like a flock of terrified sheep— came back to the conserva- 
tory. 

“ Two of them !— two of them!” panted Martha Boggs, 
as she stood and stared at the beautiful, deathly face of 
Zillah. “ Oh, my heart, my heart — two of them — and two 
were born that night!” 


CHAPTER LX. 

“for all is dark where thou art not!” 

With faltering steps and a face as white as the one 
that lay upon his shoulder. Lord Keith staggered forward 
gently and deposited the figure of his unconscious wife 


S70 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


upon one of the garden benches, sunk upon his knees be- 
side her. and bowed his face between his palms. 

Lord Keith had not yet lifted his head, end going softly 
to him, Inez dropped her hand upon his shoulder. 

“ Oh, Alaric !” she said, “ xVlaric, I am so sorry. After 
all you did love me, and I am sorry for your sake, my — 
friend. It -was a shameful deceit, and only Heaven and 
this unconscious girl as yet know how it was practiced. 
Be brave — be firm, Alaric, for who knows what may come 
of this? Whatever she is, remember she is still your 
Avife, and you have promised to love her as you once 
loved me!” 

“Promised, and kept the promise, Inez!” he answered 
brokenly. “I have learned to love jny wife far better 
than I ever loved my sweetheart!” 

“I am glad of that, Alaric— oh, I am glad of that! 
Somehow, my heart warms to her, imposter though she 
be, and, I hope — oh, I believe that you Avill find her good 
and true.” 

“ Ah, God! if you had heai*d the hideous charges they 
brought against her, 5 ou would pity me!” he groaned. 
“If it had not been for that, I could find strength to be 
happy and to bless the chance that linked my life to 
hers!” 

She gave him no reply, but softly stealing to Lord 
Glandore’s side, crept into his arms, and looked into his 
face. 

“ I am Inez— you believe that now, don’t you, grandpa? 
I am Inez, and I was stolen away from you!” 

“I believe it — yes,” he answered. “But I cannot tell 
Avhat terrible mystery lies behind this marvelous resem- 
blance. Keith, poor boy! this is dreadful. See! your — 
your wife is reviving, and we shall soon know the worst.” 

“My wife— ah. Heaven! my wife! and she isivhatV' he 
echoed. “Her own lips shall tell me — her OAvn words 
shall open heaven or hell for me to-night.” 

A faint, fluttering sigh disturbed the stillness as he 
spoke, and then, unveiling her eyes, his Avife looked up 
and saAv him. 

“ Alaric!” she moaned— “oh, Alaric, kill me! kill me! 
I have lost your love, my husband, and I prized it so 
dearly.” 

For ansAver he took both her hands in his, and, bending 
nearer, looked straight into her eyes. 

“ Tell me avIio you are?” he hoarsely said. “ The fraud 
you liaA’^e been practicing has been discovered. Inez Cathe- 
ron the real has come home.” 

“ Inez Catheron— cojne home 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


271 


“ Yes, she has escaped from the roadhouse to which 
your confederates consigned her, and if out of the wreck 
of our happiness you hope to pluck one glimmer of your 
— your husband’s respect, I charge you to tell me all!” 

“Or if not to him, to me, my poor girl,” murmured 
Inez, gliding forward and facing her — “tell it to me, whom 
you so terribly wronged, and perhaps the Avord forgive- 
ness may be spoken between us.” 

With such a cry as only they can give who feel that 
they have been suddenly lifted out of darkness into 
light, Zillah sat up and reached forth her clasped hands. 

“You are alive — you are alive — thank God for that!” 
she cried. “They told me you were dead. Miss Catheron; 
but now that you are living, even though my sin has found 
me out, I can say, ‘ Thank God !’ with all my heart. Oh, 
Alaric! Alaric!” — she slipped doAvn from the rustic bench 
as she spoke, and fell u])on her knees before him — “forgive 
me for the wrong I have done you, and remember, when 
you hear my story, that I was tempted to sin only because 
I loved you, my darling. I am not fit to be your wife, for 
you are noble, and I — forgive me — forgive me — I am a 
nameless vagabond, born and bred — a gypsy!” 

“A gypsy!” 

For a moment his lordship seemed stunned by her ad- 
mission; for a moment he stood, with bowed face and 
clinched hq,nds; and when, at length, he lifted his head, 
she saw that there Avere tears in his eyes. 

“ And being Zillah, the gypsy,” he said, hoarsely, “hoAV 
can you be Avife of mine? The peculiar form of marriage 
Avhich obtains among the people of your race is recognized 
as legal by the crown, and, if you were once the Avife of 
this man .Jock, your second union — your union Avith me— 
Avould bo illegal.” 

“My Hea\*en! Avhat are you saying?” she broke in, 
hoarsely. “My second union! Ah! Alaric, Alaric! avIio 
has been telling you this dreadful thing? I never Avas 
Jock's Avife — never Avas anything more to him than Miss 
Catheron herself!” 

“My God ! and she said — Lady Blanche said — that you 
and he ” 

A spasm seemed to ring aAvay his voice. He faced 
about abruptly, and so confronted Jock. 

“ If there is one spark of manhood in you, I appeal to 
it!” he cried. “ Which of these tAVo Avomen have spoken 
the truth?” 

Jock lifted his haggard face, and his lordship could see 
that there Avas something glistening on his lashes. 

“You needn't ask it, for Zillah never lied,” he an- 


272 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


swered. “It was all the doing of that she-devil there, 
and I’ve known it ever since the moment when I learned 
that Zillah was your wife. Marco and his daughter led 
me to believe that Zillah was living in shame, not in wife- 
hood, Lord Keith, and— and after that I’d only one 
thought: to have your life for the wrong done her.” 

“Oh, devil — devil! what punishment is bad enough for 
you?” exclaimed his lordship, glancing at Lady Blanche. 
“ Forgive me — forgive me, that I doubted you, Zillah, and 
let me thank God that my shame has nothing deeper than 
the knowledge that my wife is a gypsy.” 

“ And such a shame that woman planned for you, 
Alaric,” responded Zillah, sorrowfully, “I nev’^er knew 
it until it was too late; 1 never fully realized what a curse 
my love had been to you until it was past undoing. I 
was tempted, Alaric— tempted beyond my sti’ength — be- 
cause I loved you so; and, although my degraded origin 
must forever stand as a barrier between us, I think you 
will pity me when you have heard my miserable story.” 

And with that brief preface, she told it — from the begin- 
ning to this, the sorrowful ending — just as we have lived 
it with her, and so, for the first time, his lordship learned 
what a foe he had made that night at Cam Ruth. 

“I have paid you well for your scorn and contempt, 
haven’t I, Keith?” laughed Lad}’’ Blanche, when the re- 
cital was ended. “ I swore I would, and you see I have 
kept my word! How does it feel, my friend, to be the 
husband of a low-lived gypsy! How does it feel, Keith, 
to know that your child will have for its mother a woman 
for whose origin it must always blush? Oh. you fool! 
oh, you fool! do you think you can realize at last how a 
woman hates f" 

“ If I cannot ” — my lord lifted his head as he spoke, and 
his face was as white as death— “ if I cannot, you mon- 
ster, at least I can realize how a man loves, and, gypsy 
though she is, this woman is my wife — the queen of my 
heai’t — the sharer of my name, as she henceforth shall be, 
the sharer of my sorrows and my joj'S. You have kept 
your promise, and I will keep mine. "When I took her to 
my heart, I swore to love and cherish her. swore to cleave 
to her, though all the world beside forsook her; and now, 
with love to smooth it, that will not be a vow too hard to 
keep. Zillah, my queen, my gypsy wife, our lives must 
never go astray, no matter ichat you are. Come to me, 
dear; come to me and love me, and be my own forever!” 

So speaking, ho opened wide his arms, and she, creeping 
into them, knew that his love stood by her, even though 
his pride was slain. 


THE KiyQ'S DAUGHTERS. 


273 


“Oh, Alaric, I am not worthy of this, but I shall try to 
be, my husband, through all the years to come!” she soft- 
ly murmured. 

“ Angels can do no more, my wife!” he answered, as he 
bent and kissed her. “‘Love rules the world, and ’tis 
worth the world to win it!’ You are mine to have and to 
hold, and hold you I will forever, my Zillah, my wife, my 
‘ Flower of the Forest !”’ 

“ So you remember the picture still. Alaric? Ah! now 
that I am blessed beyond recall, I can confess the truth. 
It all happened, Alaric, just as that artist told you. Mine 
w'as the face he saw— mine, and not Miss Catheron’s — and 
I wore that velvet mask because I was always held as 
something sacred among the gypsies, who regarded it as 
profanation if any but a Romany should look upon my 
face. 

“I was known among them as Zillah the Spirit Child, 
and the title was given me because it was said that I died 
in my infancy, and my soul had been placed in a new 
body, in answer to my mother’s prayers. I have always 
doubted the stoiy, because it would be almost paganism to 
believe it. 

“ It was said to have happened just twenty years ago, 
Alaric. My parents, or, at least, my reputed parents, who 
were known by the names of Taric and Starlight Bess, 
were then in America, seat'ching for the whereabouts of a 
woman named Hulda Talford (or Hulda the Weasel, as 
she was known among the gypsies), who had lately suc- 
ceeded to the Romany thi’one. 

“They had failed to find her, and were on their way 
back to England, when this supposed miracle was said to 
have been performed. 

“A child had been born to them while on their journey, 
and, either through neglect or exposure, that child died in 
its mother’s arms, and she, poor creature, would not con- 
sent to abandon its little body, but continued to hold it 
against her bosom while she tramped along. 

“It was a stormy February iiight, and the sleet was 
driving fast. Taric and Starlight Bes.s, who were trying 
their best to reach a place called Pittsburgh, where they 
were to take the train for New York, were walking along 
by the banks of a river, and had just reached a town 
called Alleghanv City, when ” 

“ Alleghany City ! Alleghany City ! Oh, my Heaving, 
my Heaving! I ain’t a-dreamin’ it— I hain’t a-dreamin’ it 
arter all.” 

The voice was Martha Boggs’, and as she spoke, that 
worthy person bristled forward, and pausing before Zillah, 


274 THE KING’S DAUGHTERS. 

lifted a dead white face and stared at her with two big, 
dilated eyes. 

“ Oh, if it should be — my Lork a massy, if it should be!” 
she gasped, excitedly. ” Oo on, mum— I mean your lady- 
ship— go on and tell the rest. It was in Alleghany City on 

a stormy night in February twenty years ago Go on, 

go on. Oh, please, go on!” 

“ There is little enough to tell, Martha— only it was said 
that life was suddenly ]-estored to that dead child, and 
whether the story is true or false. Starlight Bess brought 
the little one to England, and ever afterward it was known 
as Zillah, the Spirit Child. The gypsies accepted the story 
in good faith, but as for me, I have alway^s thought that 
if I could trace my life back to that eventful seventeenth 
of February ” 

“ The seventeenth of Februaiy!” shrieked Martha, ex- 
citedly, ‘‘the seventeenth of February, and she’s the livin’ 
picture o’ Miss Inez. The seventeenth o’ February, twenty- 
years ago ” 

She paused abruptedly, wavered a moment , and then, 
beating her way- through the crowd, paused before Maver- 
ick Narkland. 

‘‘Don’t you know me. Mr. Narkland?” she panted. 
” Don’t you know Martha Boggs, as Lady Morford was good 
enough to keep as nurse for the baby as she fetched to 
Lord Glandore? Don’t you recollect that, sir, and don’t 
you recollect about the otherf Oh, sir, it’s time for both 
of us to. break that promise as we give to Lady Morford — 
it’s time for us to tell about the little one as HuldaTalford 
stole. Look at her — look at Lord Keith’s wife and say if 
it ain’t 1” 

‘‘In the name of Heaven, Boggs, what has come over 
youf’ exclaimed Lord Glandore. ‘‘ Have y-ou taken to 
drink in your old age, or has this night unsettled what 
few wits you have?” 

‘‘ I don’t know. I can’t think o’ anything ’cept that 
it’s time to tell, and tell I will, no matter what happens!” 
responded she, excitedly-. ‘‘Oh. my lord, and oh. Miss 
Inez, I’ve been a-keepin’ a miserable secret all these years. 
You come into this world on the seventeenth o’ February, 
twenty years ago — come into the world at Alleghany City, 
and— and you didn’t come alone, my lambie. There was 
twins born — twin girls — and one o’ them was hooked by 
HuldaTalford, which Mr. Narkland will bear me out!” 

And then, what need to record it?— she fell upon her knees 
at Inez Catheron’s feet and told the story of that double 
birth, and why the secret was kept. 

“You’re sistei's, Iknow you’re sisters,” she concluded. 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


275 


“You could nevei’ be so mucb alike unless you were. Oh, 
tell ’em it’s true, Mr. Narkland, tell ’em it’s true, I beg 
o’ you.” 

‘‘It is true,” responded Maverick Narkland ; “ and from 
the moment I first saw these two girls 1 have felt sure 
that they were sisters.” 

Then plunging into the story he told it in a plain, 
straightforward way, that carried conviction to all who 
heard. 

“Sisters!” exclaimed Zillah, turning to Inez and hold- 
ing out her arms. “ Oh, Miss Catheron, are Ave that? Is 
it possible that Ave can be that? Ah, if it could be true, I 
would give the Avorld to knoAV it! Oh, Alaric, oh, my 
husband. I should be free of every stain if this Avere true! 
Can Ave do nothing to discover it?” 

“Yes,” he ansAvered, quickly, “if Lady Blanche is 
what Boggs proclaimed her awhile ago- -the granddaugh- 
ter of Hulda Talford — Ave can either buy the truth from 
her, or go to America and trace it out. Speak, Lady 
Blanche! Will you sell it at the price of your freedom? 
If Ave promise not to prosecute either you or your father 
for this conspiracy, Avill you confess— if you know any- 
thing i-egarding Zillah’s parentage?” 

For a moment Lady Blanche Avavered; then, as she 
glanced up and caught the signal Avhich her fatlier gave 
her; 

“Yes,” she answered, sullenly. “If Lord Glandore 
Avill promise to let us both free, and never expose my 
share in this conspiracy. I’ll tell Avhat I know.” 

“I give you my promise!” responded his lordship. 

“Sacredly?” 

“Yes, sacredly. Men, release them both. There! are 
you satisfied ? Noav speak! What— if anything — do you 
know of this girl?” 

“Enough to prove the truth of Avhat Boggs suspects!” 
returned her ladyship, sullenly, “Zillah is the missing 
tAvin and she is Inez Catheron’s sister!” 


2 % 


THE EING'S DAUGHTERS. 


CHAPTER LXI. 

“BUT TIME AT LAST MAKES ALL THINGS EVEN.” 

As she spoke, she turned tOAvard the open doorAvay, but 
ere she reached it: 

“ One moment!” exclaimed Mr. Narkland, as he stepped 
forward. “Before you complete that affectionate fare- 
well by taking vour departure, I should like to show you 
something. Miss Maggie Talford!” 

“ What do you mean sir? I am Lady Blanche Hay I” 

“Pardon ine, you only think that, and the thing T have 
to show you, will. I trust, convince you that you’re ter- 
ribly mistaken. Take it and look at it. Miss Talford. It 
is a paper x’estraining you from touching the late Lord 
Norris Hay’s estate or moneys until such time as you shall 
prove your right thereto. And you can’t prove it. Miss 
Talford, simply because the late Lord Hay had a living 
wife at the time he married you!” 

“It’s a lie!” 

“ Ah, no it isn’t, my sweet little devil, it’s the truth. I 
have a sick client stopping at the Leith Arms, Avho has in 
her possession a paper which certifies that she was united 
in marriage to Lord Norris Hay eleven years ago, and al- 
though that precious rascal deserted her in Australia and 
thought he was done with her forever, that doesn’t alter 
the fact that she is still living and will not leave England 
until she gets every penny that is due hei'. Good-night, 
now, if it suits you. Miss Talford. I’m afraid that you are 
in a bad box.” 

And so she Avas, for befoi’e Mr. Narkland returned to 
America, he nob only had the satisfaction of recovering 
the Hay estates for his client, hut the happiness of knoAv- 
ing that its former incumbent had been obliged to cast her 
lot Avith her father’s and become, like him, a vagabond 

gyp^y- 

This fate, hoAveA^er. did not befall poor, deluded Jock; 
for, having become joint heiress in the Catheron estate, 
Zillah Avas enabled to furnish him Avith sufficient money 
to accompany Mr. Narkland to America, and there, in the 
Far West, to establish a cattle ranch. 

But this— although, perhaps, necessary— is certainly a 
digression. 

Not until Miss Talford and. her estimable papa had taken 
their departure upon the memorable night Avhose events I 
have been so long recoi'ding, did anything like order come 
out of the confusion Avhich reigned supreme; and then, 
finding her Avay to that part of the conservatory Avhere 
Robert Herndon stood alone. Miss Catheron looked up into 


THE RING'S DAVQHTERS. 277 

his pale, handsome face with a smile of happiness and tri- 
umph. 

“Whose was the ‘delusion,’ Robert?” she smilingly 
said. “You doubted my sanity, but whose was the delu- 
sion. after all?” 

“Mine!” he answered, huskily, “I see it plainly 
enough now ; mine was the delusion, and, oh 1 it was so 
sweet.” 

“ How sorrowfully you say that,” she answered, drop- 
ping her eyes, and try ing hard to manage the treacherous 
color that would rise over her face. “Are you not happy, 
Robert, to find me not insane? But there! let us not talk 
of that; it brings back memories of the dear little villa 
in Paris, which made me so sad at parting. Besides, you 
must be very tired after our long journej’". and you cannot 
care to talk to-night. To-morrow, after you have rested, 
we shall have such a long, long chat about those pleasant 
times in Paris.” 

“Tomorrow is the fool’s paradise. Miss Catheron, 
and Will you be angiy, I wonder, if I seem discour- 

teous? I have already arranged with my mother to re- 
turn to London to-night.” 

“To-night, Robert? Oh, are we, then, so inhospitable 
that you are in haste to leave us? When we left Paris, 
you promised that — that in case I failed to prove myself 
what I claimed to be. you would spend some days in Kent, 
making sketches and showing me the sights.’? 

“But you have not failed.” he answered huskily. “The 

promise and the hope Oh, Inez, my love! my life, the 

hope lived only in your failure, and it dies in your success. 
You were to be my wife if I proved that you were not Inez 
Catheron. You gave your promise only that way, dear, 
and now that you have succeeded ” 

She dropped her lovely blushing face, and shyly slid her 
hand in his. 

“ How that I have succeeded, why not make me keep it, 
Robert, to pay you for your trouble?” she softly said. 

“Inez!” in a voice of sudden rapture. “My Heaven! 
am I mad or dreaming? Oh, be kind or cruel in a single 
word, my love! Is it ‘go’ or is it ‘ stay ’?” 

“Stay, Robert, stay!” she softly murmured. “I have 
learned to know the difference between a girlish fancy 
and a woman’s love, and it is stay, Robert — stay forever. 
It will be a blank without you!” 

“ My darling! my darling!” he uttered as he took her 
in his arms. “ Sweet, do j'ou love me after all?” 

“Not after all, but before all, Robert!” she answered, 
naively. “Lady Blanche’s ‘revenge’ has been a bless- 
ing, for it has taught me, dear ” 


078 


THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 


“What, Inez — what?” 

“ That I should have grown tired of Alaric, but of you, 
ah! never, Eobert! never, for I love you with all my 
heart!” 

What answer Robert Herndon made, none but she 
might know, for he whispered it as he took her to his 
heart, and held her there, as he held her ever after, and so, 
like this— in perfect peace — and perfect love for these two 
sisters— the vengeance of Lady Blanche found its fated 
issue, and the story of their sorrows ended “ forever and 
for aye.” 

[THE END.] 



> ' ' 


THE NEW YORK 

FAMILY STORY PAPER 

FOR 1890. 

I»H.OSI*3EJOTXJJS. 

In beginning the sixteenth year of its successful career, it 
is with a feeling of just pride that the publisher of 

The New York Family Story Paper 

states that tliis great journal has double the circulation of any 
family paper in the world. 

This claim, which all its competitors are invited to investi- 
gate, can easily be verified. 

The pre-eminence thus acquired can be achieved only by 
merit. The reading public will buy that paper which best satis- 
fies their desire for stories of the highest literary merit and most 
interesting character. And the enormous circulation of The 
New York Family Story Paper proves that it has done 
this. 

All lie Great Fealares of lie Paper 

to which it owes its success of the past will be zealously guarded 
in the coming year. 

Its distinguished staff of authors, among whom may be 
mentioned 

Mary Kyle Dallas, Laura Jean Libbey, Wenona Gil- 
man, Charlotte M. Kingsley, P. T. Barnum, Emma 
Garrison Jones, Charlotte M. Stanley, T. W. Han- 
shew, E. Burke Collins, 

and others equally famous, will be retained, its artistic excel- 
lence maintained, its beautiful typographical appearance pre- 
served, and the same judicious editorial supervision exercised 
to keep the tone of the paper as pure and moral as it has been 
from its inception. 

No Expense of Time or Money- 

will be spared to add new and attractive features. Standing as 
it does like a beacon light high above all its contemporaries. 
The New York FAmLY Story Paper cannot help attracting 
to its columns all that is brightest and best in modern fiction. 

IT IS THE FAMILY PAPER. 

TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION: 

One year $3.00 I Four months $1.00 

Six months 1.50 | Single copies 06 

Sent free of postage on receipt of price. 

MUMtO’S PUBLISHING HOUSE, 

84 and 26 Vandewater St., 

New York. 


Box 3643, 


HOW SHE WAS CAUGHT. 

Sometimes circumstances will arise which may put the 
most innocent and pure-minded woman into an appa- 
rently compromising position. Many a lady, secure in 
her own conscience of her rectitude, has been unable to 
explain away actions or conduct which seem to point to 
guilt on her part, and has cause to remember with regret 
how she teas caught. The latest fad of society, the in- 
stantaneous camera, wielded by an amateur, has become 
a most dangerous instrument in this respect. No lady 
can any longer be safe, whether at home or abroad, in the 
theater or the leafy recesses of Central Park, whoever her 
escort may be, lest the lens of the detective camera be 
turned on her and the incident photographed in the 
twinkling of an eye. Based on occurrences of this nat- 
ure, which have happened in real life, Mattie May, the 
author of 

HOW SHE WAS CAUGHT. 

A Romance of the Instantaneous 
Camera, 

has written the most powerful story ever penned, and 
the best of artists has faithfully illustrated the various 
scenes photographed by the camera. This great story, 
which every lady in the land will be sure to read, was 
begun in 

No. 845 of the 

NEW YORK FAMILY STORY PAPER 

and will be continued therein from week to Aveek. It 
can be read nowhere else and in no other form. The 
Family Stoky Paper is for sale by all newsdealers, who 
will be able to obtain for you the back numbers contain- 
ing this thrilling romance ; or they will be sent direct 
from this office, post-paid, on receipt of your address 
and six cents per copy, or 81 for four months. 

Address, 

MUNRO’S PUBLISHING HOUSE, 

84 and 3G Yandewater Street, New York, 


Eva, the Adventuress. 

By NEIiDLIE BLY. 


‘ The Mystery of Central Park,' 


Author of “Ten Days in a Madhouse." 

etc., etc. 

At 9:30 o’clock of the morninpr of November 14th last, as is now known all 
the work! over, a slight, sletider girl, barely out of her teens, witn bright, flash- 
ing brown eyes and black hair, her petite figure one mass of energy and pluck, 
and her face expressive of grim determination, started from New York to make 
a trip around tlie world in seventy-five days or less. 

That girl, the embodiment of all that is fearless and self-reliant, that is at- 
tractive and lovable in the American female character, was Nellie Bly. Com- 
missioned by the most enterprising of the great metropolitan dailies, the New 
York World, to convert what had been a mere imagining of Jules Verne’s 
fervid fancy into an actual reality, this young girl, unaccompanied by any 
escort or chaperon, with no more baggage than a hand-sachel, started out to 
traverse the great Atlantic, to fly by rail across the continent of Europe, to 
make the passage of the Mediterranean Sea, thence through Asia across the 
Indian Ocean, to China and Japan, thence by way of the Pacific Ocean, and 
across the great American Continent back to home. Altogether a distance of 
30,000 miles. The itinerary she has set out to accomplish is as follows: 

Nov. 14. Leave New York by Augusta Victoria 9.30 a. m. 

Nov. 21. Due Southampton. London, by rail in three hours. 

Nov. 22. Leave Victoria Station, Loudon, 8 p. m. on India Mail. 

Nov. 23. Calais, Paris and Turin. 

Nov. 24. Brindisi at 10.14 p. m. 

Nov. 25. Leave Brindisi, steamship Cathav, 2 A. m. 

Nov. Zi. Ismailia. 

Dec. 3. Aden. 

Dec. 10. Colombo (Ceylon). 

Dec. 16. Penang. 

Dec. 18. Singapore. 

Dec. 25. Hong Kong. 

Dec. Leave Hong Kong for Yokohama, Japan. 

Jan. 7. Leave Yokohama via Pacific Mail steamship. 

Jan. 22. Due San Francisco. 

Jan. 27. Due New York. 

Nov. 14 to Jan. 27— seventy-five days. 

It is a fortunate fact for the readers of The New York Family Story Paper 
that for months past Nellie Bly has been devoting every spare moment she had 
toward writing a brilliant romance to be published exclusively in that paper. 
The very la.st thing she did the evening before she sailed on her great trip was 
to put the finishing touches to this story, and to send the final chapters to us 
with the following note: 


“New Y’’ork, Wednesday, November 13, 1889, 7 p. m. 

“My dear Mr. Munro, — I sail for Europe to-morrow morning on a tour 
around the world. I hope to get back within seventy-five days. I’m glad to be 
able to send with bearer the concluding chapters of my story, ‘ Eva, the Ad- 
venturess.’ I know the soory will be a great success with The Family Story 
Paper readers. Hastily, NELLIE BLY. 

This great story was begun in 

3sro- 84e 

OF THE NEW YORK FAMILY STORY PAPER. 

And it will have an added interest in the eyes of the reader, from the fact 
that while they are perusing the thrilling chapters of 

EVA, THE ADVENTURESS, 

the talented and daring author is battling her way through distant lands, to 
achieve her highest crown of glory. Be sure and ask your newsdealer for 
No. 84G, containing the opening chapters of this great romance of a blighted 
heart; or the numbers you want will be sent direct to you, free of postage, on 
receipt of your addre.ss and six cents per copy, or one dollar for four months. 
Address 

Munro’s Publishing House, 

24 and 36 Vandewater .St., N. T, 


THE BOOK OF THE SEASON. 


MISS DAVIS OF BROOKLYN. 

By Wenona Gilman, 

Author of “ The First or The Second?” 


The immediate success of this 
brilliant writer’s former etforts has 
led her to continiie in the same 
vein, and each chapter is written 
in a “ snappy ” style, which makes 
it delightful from beginning to 
end. 

Uniform Avith “ The First or 
The Second ?” bovind in fine paper 
cover, and embellished with a por- 
trait of the author. 

Price 25 Cents. 

For sale by all newsdealers, or 
sent post-paid on receipt of price. 

Address 


MUNRO’S PUBLISHING HOUSE, 


Box 3643. 


24 & 26 Vandeivater St., N. Y. 


A Companion Story to “Robert Elsinere.” 


Mrs. Robert Elsmere. 


A Companion Story to Mrs. Humphrey Ward’s 
ROBERT ELSMERE. 


All the jjeculiar elements which 
made “ Robert Elsmere ” the pro- 
foimdest and at the same time 
most widely read novel published 
since “ Daniel Deronda ” are here 
continued. Patient, gentle Cath- 
erine is now the leading character, 
while her daughter Mary is one of 
the most lovable creatures of fic- 
tion. Every reader of “ Robert 
Elsmere ” should be sure to peruse 
this book. 

Price 25 Cents. 

For sale by all newsdealers, or 
sent post-paid on receipt of price. 

Address 

MUNRO’S PUBLISHING HOUSE, 


Box 3G43. 


24 & 26 Yandewater St., N. Y, 


A Famous Novel by a Famous Author. 


ADRIETTA: 

OR, 

Her Grandfather’s Heiress 

BY MARY KYLE DALLAS. 


This is a literary gem, sparkling 
in every page with the talent 
which has made Mary Kyle Dallas’ 
name the synonym of all that is 
purest and best in American lite- 
rature. No better or more inter- 
esting book can be recommended 
to all classes of readers. 

Price 25 Cents. 

For sale by all newsdealers, or 
sent post-paid on receipt -of price. 

Address 

MUNRO’S PUBLISHING HOUSE, 


Box 3643, 


g4 ^ 36 YancleTrater St., N, J, 


MORE FASCINATING THAN " THE OGICE OR THE DEAD?" 


The Intensely Thrilling Love Story, 

THE FIRST OR THE SECOND 

OR, 

A Mistaken Marriage. 

BY WENONIA GILMAN. 


This famous novel has received more ex- 
tended and more favorable criticisms than 
any book since published. Among others 
the Louisville ‘^Courier Journal” says: 

‘‘ The characters are flesh and blood, stirred 
by real emotions and very human passions. 
Unlike ‘The Quick or The Dead’ heroine, 
the leading feminine part knows very defi- 
nitely just what she feels, and, after strug- 
gling against her sentiments, yields to them 
in a scene in which all the kissing is on the 
lips,” 

OVER lOO.OOl) OF THESE BOOKS HAVE BEEN SOLD, 

Price 2S Cents. 

For sale by all newsdealers, or 
sent post-paid on receipt of price. 

Address 

MUNRO'S PUBLISHING HOUSE, 

24 & 26 Vaiidcwater St., N, Y, 


Box 3643. 




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